The System
by MissWitchx
Summary: Sixteen students return to Hogwarts to take part in Dumbledore's far-fetched system to choose the new Head Boy and Girl. As the potential pairings are revealed, it is likely that the headmaster has finally gone mad. The last thing Hermione needed was to be stuck with Malfoy, but maybe recent events have made him grow up… maybe. They were definitely in for an interesting summer. A/U
1. The Letter

**A/N: **New multi-chap time (yaaaaay!) This will be my only disclaimer for this story: I don't own Harry Potter; I only own the plot and anything unfamiliar. This story is just for fun and for non-profit.

I know there were quite a few requests for a sequel to Two Weeks, which this story is not. Sorry, it's just that this idea was buzzing around in my head before I even started writing T.W; at the time it was just a matter of picking one and doing the other later. HOWEVER; that doesn't mean a sequel won't ever happen... AND like some of you requested, this one is another angsty yet fluffy story like T.W was :)

Moving on... This story is a 7th year AU. Basically Voldemort was destroyed in the Dept. of Mysteries, which means Draco never became a Death Eater and tried to murder Dumbledore and almost murdered Katie Bell etc. The Ron/Lavender thing happened as it did in the books, as did everything leading up to the 5th book.

Hello to those who know me, but for those who don't - welcome! I just want to let you know that like in Two Weeks, I always try and work around any clichés in an original way, and I like to have an original plot so any clichés won't seem as bad (I hope this idea is original anyway xD)!

Sorry, I know long A/N's suck but the others won't be this long.

And let us begin...

* * *

**1**

**:. The Letter ****.:**

Hermione sat on the warm grass on the orchard's boundaries with a book in her hands. Crookshanks was rolling around at her side on his back batting at flies and grumbling to himself.

She scratched her cat's ears affectionately, but was pulled from her reverie when a triumphant shout erupted from the orchard in front of her, where the Weasleys (and Harry) were playing Quidditch. By the manic way Ron was waving at her she guessed that he had just saved a goal; one of Ginny's judging by her sulky expression.

Hermione plastered a smile on her face, even though she didn't much care for Quidditch, and waved back. It was just the same as every other summer she had spent at The Burrow, except for one detail: she and Ron were something of a couple. That in itself was quite a big change… and yet _everything_ was still the same. Nothing was different, at all, and Hermione was yet to decide if this was a good thing or not.

A half hour later the match ended with Harry catching the Snitch - which was really a charmed table tennis ball from Mr Weasley's Muggle collection since the family didn't own a set of proper Quidditch balls – and the six players swooped down to earth and dismounted their brooms. Charlie and the twins proceeded to remove the spells from all of the 'balls', the most challenging of which appeared to be the 'Bludgers', (really a pair of gnomes that had been roaming the gardens.)

Hermione caught Fred's eye as he shoved the rather dis-orientated creatures to the side and shot him a disapproving glance.

"Aw come on, Hermione," Fred pouted. "They make perfect Bludgers; they're grumpy and ugly and it gives you real satisfaction when you thwack 'em with a bat," he grinned.

"That's barbaric. They still have feelings, you know?" she huffed.

"Aw bloody hell, don't tell me you've got her started off on gnome rights as well as house-elf ones!" Ron sighed as he approached Hermione, running a hand through his hair, which was damp with sweat.

"You know Ron, that's not such a bad idea…" Hermione teased as she pretended to consider it.

"Crap, why did I say anything?" Ron laughed nervously.

Hermione put down her book and stood up. "I'm joking!" she said.

"Thank Merlin for that!" Ron sighed before pulling Hermione into a hug and pressing his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, which Hermione stiffly returned. _Yeah,_ everything _is still the same, all right, _she sighed sadly, which Ron apparently mistook as a sigh of contentment.

Hermione couldn't help but feel relieved when they parted. It wasn't that it was a bad kiss, hell Ron was actually a nice kisser, but there was something missing. Yes, it gave Hermione butterflies in her stomach and yes, it made her heart thump a little louder in her chest but she didn't get that intense rush that Ginny had so often described in regards to kissing Harry.

She told herself that she was just being silly, and that her expectations must have been too high after harbouring a crush for Ron for so long. Harry, meanwhile, liked to think that she was simply having a hard time adjusting to the new dynamics of her relationship with him, and making that age-old transition from friends to something more.

Still, as she looked up at Ron, and saw the affection and happiness reflected in his blue eyes her gut instinct kicked in, and she knew deep down that there was a reason why everything felt the same to her.

"Look Ron…" she began as a quick glance around confirmed that everyone else was now out of earshot and heading around the front of the house to put their brooms away. She had attempted to tell him this many a time, and every time she did so she had made the mistake of looking into those eyes. How could she tell him that she wanted to end something that had barely started when he was so oblivious to her reservations? She didn't want to hurt him.

"Yeah?" he responded. Hermione opened her mouth to take the plunge, having decided that the longer she went along with this, the more hurt he was going to be in the long run. But then he shot her that dopey lop-sided smile of his and she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet.

She was going to take Harry's advice and just wait it out a little longer, but the truth was that in her heart or hearts, Hermione knew that friends were all she and Ron could ever be.

But then she would remember their sixth year at Hogwarts and how seeing Lavender Brown with Ron, touching him, kissing him, affected her.

There must be something there… something worth trying for…

"Nothing, it doesn't matter," Hermione sighed.

Just then Harry came running up to them.

"Guys," he panted. "Hogwa… Hogwarts letters… for us," he thrust an envelope into Hermione and Ron's hands. "Arrived… just now."

"For a Seeker you sure get out of breath easily," Hermione joked as she broke the wax seal on her letter.

"Running is kind of different from flying, Mione," Ron said. "I mean, take Andrea Alvey who was on the Ravenclaw team last year: she was a brilliant player but her broom constantly looked as if it was going to snap -."

"Come now, Ron, she wasn't _that_ fat!" Hermione replied absently as her eyes scanned the contents of her letter. "Oh!" she gasped as she reached the end.

"How bloody fast do you read?" Harry blinked, having only just broken into his own envelope.

"Just hurry up and read your letters!" she squealed. "I'm pretty sure it would be along the same lines as mine! I mean what else could it be if they're writing to us halfway through the holidays?"

"What are you on about?" Ron asked, still yet to remove the parchment from the envelope.

As she waited for her friends to catch up to the news she had just received, Hermione decided to read her letter again, just to make sure it was real if anything else.

'_Dear Ms Granger, _

_I am pleased to inform you that you have been nominated to become Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the school year 1997 – 1998. _

_Due to recent developments in the Wizarding World, the headmaster is keen to test out a new 'selection system' for the roles of Head Boy and Head Girl, in the hopes that it would be the beginnings of a new Hogwarts, whereby inter-house unity will set the foundation for a happier and more harmonious atmosphere amongst the students._

_This will be the first year the system will be put to use; therefore it is unknown exactly how long this would take. I realise that it isn't ideal to carry out such an event during the summer holidays, but the very purpose of the system requires a firm outcome by the time term begins. _

_Please report to Hogwarts on August 1__st__, where further details about the new system will be given to you. The apparition shields will be taken down between noon and two pm for those of you with a license, and Portkeys will be arranged for those who don't. _

_It is likely that all nominees will be required to stay at the school until the start of term, but you will all be permitted to return home as frequently as the schedule will allow. _

_Please send a return owl explaining if you require a Portkey, or if you are unable to participate due to a family holiday or commitment. Apologies for any inconvenience this may cause._

_Professor M. McGonagall.'_

"'Inter-house unity'?" Ron scoffed. "I'd hate to say it but I think Dumbedore's lost his marbles if he thinks some 'new system' is going to make us play all nicey-nice with the Slytherins." He paused, "Wait. Does that mean _we're_ the guinea pigs for this?"

"Looks like it," Harry confirmed.

"Personally I think the idea is genius," Hermione said. "Voldemort was destroyed in the Department of Mysteries in our fifth year and the same old divisions between houses and blood status' are still there. It's like we're all still letting him win even though he's gone!"

"Hate to burst your bubble, Mione, but those divides were there long before Voldemort," Ron said.

"I know but he made it so much worse, don't you think?" Hermione replied, suddenly feeling incredibly passionate about the notion of their headmaster. "Besides why aren't you focusing on what's really important here? We're all up for Head Boy and Girl!"

Ron's dubious expression suddenly lightened. "Blimey – Head Boy! Wait 'til mum hears about this!"

Harry, meanwhile, didn't look so pleased at the news.

"Aren't you excited, Harry?" Hermione frowned.

He blinked behind his glasses. "'Course I am. I'm flattered, but I was just kind of hoping for a quiet year, y'know? The whole 'downfall of Voldemort' thing has only just started to settle down so I think being made Head Boy is just going to draw focus back to me again, and I don't want that."

"Does that mean you aren't going to come with us?" Hermione asked, chewing her lip. Of course she would miss having him there, even if it was only for a month and they could visit him whenever they wanted, but being there with Ron without him made her nervous. Who else could she rely on for a second opinion if her doubts continued through the summer?

She would never admit it, but this was a rare occasion where Harry knew more than she did about something. He had gone through the friendship-to-relationship stage with Ginny, and they'd been together for a few months now, whilst Hermione was completely new to this, and it scared her. Scared her that she'd do the wrong thing.

"I am going to come," Harry nodded. "There's a really good chance they won't pick me anyway depending on how many other people got letters. Plus I'm very interested to know how they're going to go about testing us. I'll just need to owl McGonagall about needing a Portkey."

"Unless you take your apparition test beforehand?" Hermione suggested.

Harry's eyebrows shot up beneath his messy black fringe. "How can I? I've only had a handful of lessons, and even those were from the twins when they visited in sixth year! I can't take the test until my birthday anyway, and that's the bloody day before we need to be at Hogwarts. I'll only have one chance, then I'm screwed if I don't tell McGonagall I need a Portkey."

"Bloody hell," Ron chuckled. "Are you feeling alright, mate? This is you, isn't it?"

"'Course it is," Harry said. "Why?"

"Since when have you not taken a chance, Harry?" Hermione laughed. "One would think you'd be more reckless now that Voldemort's gone instead of being more cautious."

Harry considered her words for a moment. "You know what, I think I _will_ go for it. I've always hated the feeling of travelling by Porkey," he said with a shudder.

Ron and Hermione mumbled in agreement.

"Well then you'd better get some last minute practice in, mate," said Ron. "You reckon you'll be ready in a week?"

"I hope so."

"I can always ask Fred and George if they can give you a couple more lessons if you want. I'm sure they won't mind."

Harry pursed his lips and adjusted his glasses. "Er, I think I'll pass to be honest. Every time the twins have taught me I always leave both of my eyebrows behind. I think they've jinxed me somehow."

Hermione laughed at the mental image of Harry without eyebrows. "I'm sure you'll be fine, Harry. If you really think you need the extra preparation then I can help you. Oh wait!" she gasped. "You won't be able to have any lessons now; you aren't of age yet. I'll just have to wake you up bright and early on your birthday so you can get a lot of practice in before your test."

"Thanks," Harry said uncertainly. "Well shall we go back inside and tell everyone the good news, then?"

"Yeah," Ron grinned. "Have fun telling Ginny, by the way. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to know that you're going to be away for a month."

"She can't be too disappointed, can she?" Harry winced. "McGonagall said that we can leave the grounds whenever we can."

"Still," Hermione said as the three of them walked around to the front of The Burrow with Crookshanks padding behind them. "With every day you aren't here that's a lot of vital snogging time lost in Ginny's book."

She smiled when she saw a blush colour Harry's cheeks, "She er, talks to you about that kind of stuff?"

"Mm-hmm," Hermione said slowly and suggestively. In fact, she and Ginny had only ever engaged in a full-on 'girl talk' session one or two times before, and even then the conversations were about five minutes long, but she found it quite endearing how coy Harry was about it.

"Oh…brilliant," Harry said dryly, making a point to avoid making eye contact.

"She doesn't say anything bad though," she said quickly, afraid that he might have gotten the wrong idea. Harry expelled a sigh of relief.

It was then that Hermione noticed Ron had wandered a few paces away from them.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Have you two changed the subject yet?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on Ron, don't tell me you're still annoyed at Ginny and Harry?"

"I'm not," he retorted. "I've made my peace with the idea of them as a couple, but is it really too much to ask to keep snogging out of conversation topic?"

"So you don't like hearing about Harry and Ginny kissing, and yet you so freely kiss me when your siblings are around?"

"That's different," Ron defended stubbornly with a weak smile. "Ginny's my little sister."

Hermione and Harry exchanged glances. They always seemed to go around in circles whenever this subject was brought up; neither of them could convince Ron to back down, because he always used the same old trump card that made any further arguments from them moot.

"Both of you are only-children," Ron said, right on cue. "You wouldn't understand."

"We know," Harry and Hermione chorused in unison with a sigh.

* * *

Pleasantly stuffed from the overly extravagant celebratory meal Molly had prepared for them at the news from Hogwarts, Hermione collapsed onto her bed and grabbed a book from her nightstand.

"Come in," she called when there was a knock at the door. She already knew it was Ron before he poked his head through the gap.

"Hey," he said, walking over to her and sitting on the bed beside her. Hermione was very wary of his close proximity but pretended to be engrossed in her book.

"What'cha reading?" Ron asked, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist and putting his head on her shoulder. She squirmed; she always hated it when people read over her shoulder. It made her lose concentration.

"Just something Ginny leant me," she said, promptly shutting it. She didn't want Ron to know that she was really reading an old issue of _Witch Weekly_ that she had charmed to look like an old textbook.

Yes, she was _that_ desperate. She needed an unbiased outsider's opinion, and if that opinion came from a trashy, cheap magazine, then so be it. _Any_ advice after almost a month of changing her mind again and again was useful.

"I just came in to tell you that I won't be able to take you to lunch tomorrow like we arranged," Ron said apologetically. "Mum's insisting that she take me to Quality Quidditch Supplies to get me a new broom as a reward for being nominated for Head Boy. Or at least, look for one."

So Ron was effectively cancelling on her for a Quidditch-related outing, and Hermione… didn't feel that disappointed.

"That's fine. I'll see you when you get back anyway," she replied.

"Thanks for being so understanding, Mione," Ron kissed her cheek, and she felt her body tense. This time, he noticed.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione bit her lip, indicating to Ron that something was wrong. She knew that she couldn't lie to him now that he knew something was on her mind.

"Not really… I mean, personally, yes I'm fine, but," she paused. "I don't know how to explain it but I just don't know if this," she pointed between Ron and herself, "I mean, we – _us_ – is working out."

"I can re-arrange with Mum if you want, Mione," Ron laughed, apparently missing the point.

"No it's not that," Hermione scratched her head and conceded that the best way to get her point across to Ron was to be blunt. "I sometimes think that maybe we would be better off as friends... _Just_ friends."

She held her breath and felt Ron's arms release her body. Immediately, that area of her waist felt cold, and she almost wished for them to be wrapped around her again.

Next, she felt the mattress rise as Ron got up and walked around to the other side, sitting back down again so he was facing her. He was frowning in confusion, causing a shadow to fall over his eyes.

"What do you mean? I thought we both wanted this," he said numbly.

"I did, I mean I _do," _Hermione said, doing her best to maintain eye contact. "But something doesn't feel right, I suppose. It's difficult to explain, but since we got together nothing has changed."

"Well that's good isn't it? You didn't expect that we'd become different people just because I asked you out, did you?"

Hermione bit her lip again. "Of course not, but I expected something to change _between_ us. Think about it, Ron. We do the same things together as we've done every other summer I've stayed here. We go to the same places, talk about the same things-."

"Because we've been friends for years, Mione," Ron said, reaching across and touching her hand. There was immediate warmth and comforting feeling at the touch, but there was no rushing spark of electricity Ginny had spoken of. Hermione was beginning to wonder if the witch had been over-exaggerating this whole time, and she was making a big deal out of nothing.

"And maybe that's the problem," she sighed, pulling her hand away gently. "Maybe I've grown too used to you as a friend, so much so that I can't think of you as anything more, no matter how much I want to."

Ron scoffed and rose from the bed again in a flash. "I don't believe this," he muttered as he began pacing the room. "How do you explain last year then?"

"Last year?"

"When you used to get upset whenever I was with Lavender."

"Well excuse me for feeling upset because you were _purposefully_ trying to make me jealous," Hermione replied stiffly after releasing a long breath of relief, rising from the bed too and crossing her arms.

"Oh and I suppose your feelings for McLaggen were legit, were they?" Ron countered.

The fight was drained from Hermione at that comment. "I was just trying to make you see how you were making me feel," she said quietly.

Ron's eyes met hers and he took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm sorry for snapping, but can't you see why this doesn't make sense to me? You must feel something more than friendship for me if me being with Lavender bothered you."

"Don't you think I already considered that?" Hermione laughed humourlessly. "This is why I haven't said anything to you before now; there are things that tell me I must feel something whilst others suggest that we can only ever be friends," she sat on the bed and started thinking aloud to herself. "Unless I felt jealous of Lavender because I thought being your girlfriend is what I wanted but now it's happened I know we can't work…"

"Mione?"

"Yes?" she shook the thoughts away and looked up at Ron, who was staring at her with an expression that seemed simultaneously amused and curious.

"Has it ever crossed your mind that since you thought that it couldn't work between us that maybe you've been purposefully looking for reasons that back up your argument?"

"Why would I go looking for reasons-?"

Ron shook his head. "I didn't mean intentionally," he said, sitting beside her. "When I was four, Fred and George planted the idea in my mind that I must be a Squib, because all of my brothers' magic first came about when they were two or three. After that, whenever I felt really angry or sad I'd get paranoid that I hadn't accidentally made something blow up or what-have-you. The thought that I could be a Squib was always in the back of my mind."

"Where are you going with this?" Hermione didn't know why she asked, she already knew deep down.

"I'm saying that I could have saved myself a lot of temper-tantrums if I'd just let things play out naturally without over-thinking it."

"I sense some kind of suggestion heading towards this conversation," Hermione smiled.

"Merlin I hate it when you can tell what I'm thinking," Ron smiled back. "You need to stop over-thinking this 'us' thing Mione. I know it probably didn't help that I asked you out almost straight after I broke up with Lavender so it might have confused you even more or caught you off guard."

"Okay," Hermione nodded along.

"But how about this: what if we ended this temporarily? We'll spend the rest of the summer as friends – no relationship – and get this bloody system thing over with, and then when term starts you can tell me if you'd like to give it another go or if you think there really is nothing here," he gestured between them. "That way it will give you more time to get used to the idea, and you wouldn't be able to overthink it too much because we'll have this Head Boy/ Girl stuff to worry about."

Ron smiled triumphantly in the way he always did when he felt especially proud about something.

"I don't like that idea, Ron," Hermione sighed. "I'd feel like I was leading you on. What if by September I realise that a relationship definitely isn't what I want and then you start to resent me for giving you false hope or something? I don't want to lose you as a friend."

"You're over-thinking it again," Ron raised his eyebrows at her and laughed.

"Shut up," she said, giving him a playful shove.

"We'd be single, Hermione. It's not like I'd be pining for you the whole time."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at that.

"Okay maybe I will to some degree," Ron said. "But honestly, whatever happens, I'd never hate you."

"But Ron-."

"Just do this one thing for me," he said. "If you tell me that you don't want to be with me in September, I won't push it, and I wouldn't stop being your friend. I promise. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Hermione chewed her lip again. She was still very reluctant about this but she had to admit that maybe he had been right about getting together too quickly after Lavender; maybe some time would clear her head.

"Okay, Ron," she nodded.

He gave her a melancholic smile and squeezed her hand before he got up and walked towards the door.

"Night, Mione," he said as he reached it.

"Night," she smiled as he walked out and closed the door.

* * *

After a four-hour apparition boot-camp lesson on Harry's birthday, Hermione dubbed him as being prepared enough to take his test: at least, he could now apparate without leaving his eyebrows behind. He returned to The Burrow after taking it with a grin on his face and his new apparition license in hand.

It was really quite nice that his birthday happened to fall on the day before he, Ron and Hermione were returning to Hogwarts; his party almost doubled as a second congratulatory event for all three of them, but Ron and Hermione were keen not to take the focus off Harry, because he was now officially of age. Needless to say, he had taken full advantage of getting his own back for the countless pranks that had been played on him over the summer where he couldn't retaliate using magic.

Hermione was thrilled that there had been no awkward tension between her and Ron over the last week like she first feared there would be. The other Weasleys and Harry were a little disappointed at the news; Molly had been trying fruitlessly to 'talk some sense' into Hermione over the last few days, but she reluctantly backed down when Ron jumped in and explained that the trial split was his idea. Overall, it had been a pleasant evening.

The next morning, Hermione rose bright and early, knowing full well that the boys would have left all of their packing until the last minute. She knocked on their door, but when there was no answer after two minutes she decided to let herself in.

She sighed when she took in the abundance of chocolate frog wrappers; Bertie Botts jelly beans, books and clothes that were scattered about the floor. She walked over to the window and drew the curtains.

"Rise and shine!" she trilled as daylight flooded the room.

Ron stirred first. He squinted when he opened his eyes and wriggled further down into his duvet.

"Whatimeizzit?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Eight-thirty," Hermione replied, giving him a shove as his eyes fell shut again.

"Gerroff," Ron said. "I'm awake, I swear…" and a second later he was snoring.

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed the room, hoping to have more success in rousing Harry, who was still fast asleep judging by the way he was curled around under the covers, with only a few tufts of black hair sticking out.

"Harry," Hermione said, gently rocking his shoulder.

"Oh sure you're nice to _him_," Ron grumbled from the other side of the room.

"Awake now are you?" Hermione arched an eyebrow as she turned around.

Ron just grunted, sitting up in bed and stretching.

Hermione felt the covers shift under her hand, which still rested on Harry's shoulder. He rolled over and blindly fumbled around on the nightstand to get his glasses, knocking his wand off in the process. It hit the floor with a loud thud, and Harry winced.

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione.

"I dunno," Harry said hoarsely. "I feel like my head's just been trampled by a Hippogriff."

"For goodness sake, Harry, I told you to go easy on the Butterbeers last night, didn't I?"

Harry blushed. "You did," he said sheepishly.

The boys packed decisively slowly one they had woken up, sluggishly wandering around the room like trolls and picking up random items of clothing and throwing them idly into their trunks. In the end Hermione gave in and did the majority of their packing for them, not that Harry and Ron minded.

By half past twelve they were all ready to leave. The exchange of goodbyes was a clumsy affair, with the three of them and the rest of the Weasleys reaching over one another to hug or shake hands with everyone else. After that was done, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood beside their luggage and apparated one at a time into the school's Entrance Hall. Because Harry was still not feeling his best, he over-shot his target and ended up half way up one of the moving staircases, resulting him in almost toppling over at the unexpectedly uneven ground.

"That was a good start," he said dryly as he joined Ron and Hermione at the bottom.

"Good afternoon Mr Potter, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley," the kind voice of Professor Dumbledore greeted them.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Hermione smiled, spinning around to face the headmaster. She looked around the Entrance Hall and peered into the empty Great Hall. "Are we the first ones to arrive?"

Ron groaned. "I told you there was no bloody need to rush so much."

Dumbledore chuckled. "On the contrary, Mr Weasley, quite a few other Head Boy and Girl candidates arrived a few minutes ago. I must say the turn-out for this process is most admirable."

"Oh," Ron said, trying to avoid making eye contact with Hermione.

"Where are they?" she asked.

"In the living quarters in the west wing of the castle. There are some quite spacious dormitories and a common room there that was used to home the Durmstrang students from a previous occasion where Hogwarts hosted the Triwizard Tournament," explained Dumbledore. "You see, there were very serious weather conditions that year, so even with the use of magic their ship would have been too dangerous to utilise."

"How come we aren't staying in our usual dormitories?" Ron asked, visibly put out by the prospect of having to live in close proximity to the Slytherins for a month. He often complained that them being in the Dungeons was still too close for comfort when they were in Gryffindor Tower.

"Ah, well only four names from each house were put forward for consideration, so there would be little point in keeping you all so far apart when so few of you would be in each dorm. It was agreed amongst the staff that a communal area for everyone would be ideal, given the reason why you are all here."

"Eh?" Ron frowned.

"I think he's saying that it'll be good practice for us to get used to living with each other since the Heads get their own shared common room," Hermione said.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Exactly right, Miss Granger. It will be the first and longest running 'test', if you will, for it was explained on the letter that this is about inter-house unity; the Heads will not be from the same house."

All three of them gulped.

"Er Professor?" Harry asked. "What kind of other 'tests' will this process include?"

The older wizard smiled; Hermione didn't really like the mischievous glint in his eye. "All will be explained when everyone is present, which should be in a little over an hour. In the meantime I suggest you settle yourselves into your temporary dormitories."

"Sorry sir, if I may ask one last question before we go?" said Hermione.

"My, I'd forgotten how inquisitive you all are. The others simply went on their way as soon as I explained about the living arrangements without question," Dumbledore said. "Ask away, Miss Granger."

"Well, if you wanted to promote inter-house unity this way, then why not just pick two people from different houses to be the Heads instead of using this 'new system'? Forgive me, but it seems a little far-fetched in comparison."

She didn't want to offend the headmaster since the system was his idea, but she was curious.

"Once again, your question will be answered when everyone is here: I've already received one or twenty owls from parents questioning the same thing. It was to be expected; I realise that the summer holidays isn't exactly ideal for everyone. If that is everything you'd like to know for now then you may go to your dorms."

"Thank you sir," said Hermione.

"Oh, and one last thing," Dumbledore called after them as they turned to leave. "Any one of you will be permitted to alter the password every two days over the course of this process."

The friends exchanged bemused glances. "Why do we need a password if we're the only students who are going to be here?" Harry asked for all three of them.

"To be a suitable candidate for Head Boy or Girl, a certain amount of teamwork, compromise and communication will be required. I trust you will reach a consensus if you are indeed, suitable." Dumbledore said cryptically before walking away from them.

"Can someone please translate?" Ron broke the confused silence.

"It's another test," Hermione sighed. "Presumably to see who would be the best choices." And with that, she realised that she now knew the answer to her earlier question. Dumbledore wanted to make sure the Heads were wholly right for the roles, and that they would both work well together; after all, what could be better for promoting inter-house unity than having a harmonious Head Boy and Girl pairing?

"Bloody hell," Ron said as they finally set off to the dormitories. "To me it seems like this is all for a laugh. He must know that anyone being able to change the password to whatever they like is never going to end well, even if it can only be changed every two days."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "And judging by the two 'tests' that we already know about, I get the feeling the ones that are to come are going to be just as mental."

"Maybe so but Dumbledore must know what he's doing. He'll have a reason for these tests, no matter how strange or pointless they seem," Hermione said confidently.

"I've already suggested what this 'reason' could be: he's lost his bloody marbles," Ron said.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: **I wanted to get at least to the Slytherins' entrance here but everything took up more words than I was anticipating, and well, this was a convenient place to stop. (It's funny that this is what I'd consider a 'long' chapter in TW - hehe!)

So... what did you think? Let me know, and thank you very much for reading :D


	2. The Password

**A/N: **Thank you for the lovely response on the first chapter :)

I'm going to try and update twice a week, but since these chapters are longer by average than the ones for Two Weeks, at the very least there will be one update a week (I hope)!

Enjoy!

* * *

**2**

**:. The Password .:**

It would have been impossible to access the common room if the current occupants had been the Slytherins. Upon learning it was Harry, Ron and Hermione on the other side of the door, Susan Bones had taken pity on them as they resorted to shouting random combinations of words at the door in the vain hope it would open.

"You took your bloody time," Ron said as she finally opened the door.

"Sorry," Susan replied. "I was going to let you in as soon as I knew who you were but Ernie decided he was going to repeatedly use a body-bind curse on me," she turned and glared into the room, presumably at Ernie.

"How did you manage to get out of them?" Hermione asked as Susan stepped to the side and allowed them to cross the threshold.

"I lifted the spells," Padma Patil's voice came from the right side of the circular room, where she was sat beside Ernie on a squashy sofa that reminded Hermione of the ones in Gryffindor Tower. Ernie shot a cheesy grin in their direction, laughing at the trio's unimpressed expressions.

"Aw come on, lighten up," he said.

"Do you realise how bloody annoying it is trying to guess a password?" Ron said.

"Well no, because I came up with this one. Honestly at first I wouldn't have objected to Susan letting you guys in but then you started spewing jibberish and well, it was quite entertaining. I must say, Hermione, 'Mandrake toothpaste' was one of my favourites," Ernie laughed.

Everyone in the room except Hermione laughed with him. She just blushed and muttered something about her parents being dentists before not so subtly changing the subject.

"The common room is nicer than I expected it to be," she said, making a point to look intently around the room so as to not make eye contact with anyone. "When Dumbledore said it was from a past Triwizard Tournament I envisioned some dark rickety chamber."

Now that she was looking properly she realised that it actually was a nice area. The sofa where Ernie and Padma sat was part of a living area, which was made up of two more sofas, a large table and three generously sized armchairs; all of which surrounded the fire, giving a cosy atmosphere. A large window was fixed into the curved wall that was directly opposite to the entrance, and tall bookshelves bordered either side of it. Hermione's fingers were itching to go and investigate, but she resisted.

An array of small tables and chairs sat in front of the bookshelves, presumably for quiet reading or games of Gobstones and Wizard's Chess, and there was a small kitchenette to the right in-between the living area and bookshelf. The left side of the room had a row of doors built into the wall – the dormitories – and the walls were decorated with torches and tapestries depicting each house's symbol and colours.

"Yeah it is pretty nice," Ernie said. "When Dumbledore told us about this place I was kind of hoping to stumble upon Filch's torture chamber or something," he laughed.

"Ernie don't be so stupid… everyone knows his torture chamber is in the dungeons," Padma smiled at him.

Hermione watched the two of them curiously. She grinned widely when Padma blushed after catching her eye.

"Oh my gosh, are you two-?"

Ernie and Padma looked at each other. He took her hand in his and nodded at Hermione.

"I'm so happy for you!" she said.

"Er yeah, brilliant," Ron mumbled before sloping off to investigate the dormitories with Harry. Hermione winced when the door banged shut. Maybe she had underestimated how easy this trial split was going to be, especially now that they were going to be living with a couple for the next month.

She shook the thoughts away and turned back to Ernie, "So you finally realised that she liked you, then?" the question sounded much more accusatory than she had anticipated – she felt a bit ruffled by Ron's reaction - but Ernie didn't push her on it.

"Hermione!" Padma blushed again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," she said before settling herself into one of the armchairs. "Oh my," she commented as she settled into the plump cushions, "and I thought the chairs in Gryffindor Tower were comfortable."

Ernie laughed. "I know; they're amazing. Why do you think I haven't bothered to get up the whole time since you arrived?"

Hermione shrugged, "I figured you were just lazy, but I'll let you off for that now that I know you had a valid reason. Anyway, sorry again. I just meant because Parvati used to inform us all about how Padma had a crush that you were apparently oblivious to."

"I _was_," Ernie admitted. "Apparently it was really obvious to everyone as well. Made me feel like a bit of an idiot."

"Aw I think it's sweet," Padma said. "It was bloody annoying at the time, mind, but it's sweet looking back at it."

"Oi Mack!" Ron called, appearing in the doorway of the far-left dormitory. His nose was bright red. "Why is there a row of spring-loaded nose-biting teacups in the cupboard?"

"Oops," Ernie said. "I forgot to warn you. They were meant to be a surprise for the Slytherins. I figured they'd pick that room because it seemed the gloomiest when we looked around. And why'd you call me Mack?"

"'Macmillan' is too much of a mouthful," Ron replied tensely.

"I do have a first name, you know," Ernie said, though he decided not to push it further when he saw that Ron clearly wasn't in the mood for banter. He sighed. "I'm just going to take the spells off the teacups," he said to Padma, kissing her on the cheek and dragging himself reluctantly from the sofa.

An awkward silence fell over the room when the door closed again. Susan seemed like she wanted to say something but was too polite to do so. Padma, on the other hand, wasn't so coy.

"Is everything okay, Hermione?"

"Yes," she replied, playing dumb. "Although I don't think it was very wise of Ernie to booby-trap the dormitory. The least we can do is try and be civil with the Slytherins since we're all going to be pretty much living in here without deliberately asking for trouble."

"I tried to warn him but that boy is reckless," Padma said affectionately. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Padma sighed and leaned a little closer to Hermione. "My sister told me things about last year, too," she said, gesturing to the closed door. She was obviously talking about Ron and Lavender.

"Oh," Hermione said, biting her lip. "Things with Ron and me are a bit complicated right now, but we're fine."

"Okay," Padma smiled. "Just come and talk to me if you need, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. She was keen to change the subject again, so she started to look randomly about the room, trying to find a glimmer of inspiration from somewhere.

"What are the sleeping arrangements exactly?" she finally asked.

"Dunno, we haven't figured that out yet," Susan said, walking over and taking Ernie's spot on the sofa. "There was that initial urge to rush in and get dibs on the best beds but we agreed that it wouldn't be fair to decide before everyone else arrives."

"At first we thought it would be easy to figure out," Padma added. "You know, keep boys and girls separate like they are normally, for the modesty of having to get changed and stuff if not for any other reason. But then I found this hidden passage behind that left-hand bookshelf," she pointed. "There's a girls bathroom behind it, kind of like the prefect's one, so I'm assuming there's one for the boys behind the other one. So because of that it seems perfectly acceptable to have boys and girls in the same room."

"How would that work?" Hermione asked. "Houses?"

Padma shrugged. "We'll work it out later. I get the feeling this room is kind of like the Room of Requirement anyway, or at least the dormitories are charmed. The amount of doors over there keeps changing. I think it's waiting for us to make a decision."

Hermione pursed her lips; could this be another test?

It was then that Ernie, Harry and Ron emerged from the dormitory. All three of them were covered with tiny bruises.

"Remind me again which pillock decided this would be a good idea," Ernie laughed as he extracted a teacup from his pinky finger.

* * *

An hour later the common room area was livelier, as almost everyone had arrived. The other candidates for the Head Boy and Girl were Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchly from Hufflepuff, and Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot and Mandy Broklehurst from Ravenclaw.

It didn't come as a surprise to anyone that the Slytherins were late, but Hermione found her concern of priority to be the mystery fourth Gryffindor. It hadn't escaped her notice that the four nominees from each house were made up of two boys and two girls. She ruled out the notion that the other girl from her house was Parvati Patil, since her sister was already here and there was no reason for Padma to neglect to mention it.

_For the love of Merlin, please let it be Eloise Midgen, _Hermione thought to herself. Her already non-existent friendship with Lavender Brown had only deteriorated even more after last year, so she couldn't begin to imagine how awkward it would be to share a dorm with her _and _Ron, especially given her current arrangement with the latter. Thank Merlin Harry had decided to come along.

Finally, a set of disgruntled voices could be heard on the other side of the common room door.

"Everyone be quiet," Ernie said loudly. "It's the Slytherins."

The room went silent so everyone could listen to the Slytherins try to guess the password.

"Who said that?" Blaise Zabini's voice came.

"We're probably the last ones here, Zabini, it could be anyone," Daphne Greengrass said.

"Some wise guy in there is having us on. They know it's us and yet they aren't letting us in."

"It sounded like that Hufflepuff: Mack something."

"Aw come on!" Ernie complained. "Is that going to become a thing now?"

Anthony's eyebrows had shot up at the voice. "I think the more appropriate question is who the heck in their right minds would nominate _Parkinson_ for Head Girl?"

"Snape," Harry, Ron and Hermione answered simultaneously in the same dry tone.

"Come on!" Daphne said. "We can hear you so you can obviously hear us. You know who we are so just let us in."

"Ah, we have a password," Ernie smirked at the door, clearly enjoying getting his own back on all the times the Slytherins had made fun of him in the past.

"Tell me something, Mack," Daphne went on. "How many other people had to use the password to get in?"

Ernie hesitated before making to responding.

"That's what I thought," Daphne said. "So just let us in."

"You're right, you're right," Ernie said, throwing his arms up into the air. He walked over to the door, but didn't move to open it. "I'll let you in-."

"It's about bloody time," Blaise muttered.

"_If-," _Ernie smiled. "You can tell me what my name is."

Padma sighed. "Just let them in! It isn't going to help anyone if you piss them off before anything has even happened in this system. For all we know you could be paired up with one of them."

"See, Patil's got the right idea," Pansy said.

"Oh sure you remember _her_ name," Ernie rolled his eyes. "Password please!"

There was a chorus of groans on the other side of the door. Despite her reservations about her boyfriend's way of handling this, Padma couldn't help but crack an amused smile like everyone else.

"Just you wait until we get in there, Mack," Blaise hissed. "I'm going to hex your arse."

"Zabini, focus. If you hex him you won't be chosen to be Head Boy," Pansy said.

"Why would _he_ care about being Head Boy?" Ron asked to nobody in particular.

"Probably so he'd have the authority to boss everyone around," Hannah answered.

The Slytherins started whispering amongst themselves so it was hard to tell what they were saying, but occasionally Hermione could pick up on odd words or phrases.

"It's not like we can blast the door down with magic…"

"…. What if…"

"I've got an idea but I can't… you have to do it…"

"It might not even work because…"

"Worth a try…"

"Isn't there supposed to be four of them?" Ron asked again, having noticed that only three voices could be heard.

"It amazes me how none of you can…" came a rich, drawling voice right on cue. All eyes turned to Ron, who looked down at the floor.

"Why did I say anything?" he groaned. "Bloody ferret as Head Boy? That's a laugh."

"He's been awfully quiet until now," Harry said.

"Probably to lure us into a false sense of security," Hermione commented. She was surprised that she wasn't filled with dread at the prospect of Draco Malfoy being here like her friends were. Then again, she wasn't a part of the Quidditch rivalry that had been becoming increasingly heated between them year-by-year.

"Aha!" Daphne said. "It's clear now. Go on Malfoy."

There was the sound of shuffling feet. Ernie seemed about as confused as everyone else, but he didn't move from his spot.

"_Weasley's_ here?" Draco scoffed on the other side of the door. "Oh wait, all three of the Gryffindor do-gooders are there. How predictable," he drawled.

"Has he got X-Ray vision or something?" Susan asked, surreptitiously moving her arms to cover her body.

"Oh so _this_ is Mack," Draco's voice said. "I haven't had a bloody clue who you were all on about until now."

"Ouch," Ernie said with a roll of his eyes.

"I saw that," Hermione could visualise the signature smirk in his voice. She rolled her eyes too.

"Rolling your eyes is a very bad habit," Malfoy's voice continued to scold Ernie in that condescending manner that infuriated Hermione to no end. "Did you pick that up from Granger? I saw her do it just now."

Everyone in the common room exchanged confused glances and the Slytherins snickered on the other side.

"Will you stop arsing around and just do it?" Pansy snapped.

"Excuse me Parkinson but I'm the only one of us with the ability to get us in, so I don't think you're in a position to get touchy with me."

"Godric help us if he's made Head Boy," Ron whispered to Harry.

"You can't deny he's authoritative though," Hannah said with a wistful gaze.

"Yeah because he's a complete pri-." Ron was cut off by a sudden shout from Draco.

"Legilimens!"

Ernie yelped in shock and grasped his head. The spell was lifted after a few seconds so there wasn't enough time for anyone to catch up with what just happened.

"Got it," Draco said. "That bloody cretin."

"How the hell did you do that Malfoy?" Ernie demanded.

"Greengrass made the door transparent on our side."

"You can do that?" Terry asked with a frown.

Draco snorted on the other side of the door. "Obviously. I've got the password so let us in."

"Say it," Ernie smirked.

"You bloody know I know it, Mack," Draco said, losing his patience. "So let us in."

"Not until you say it."

From where Hermione was sitting it was impossible to hear what Draco said next because he spoke so quietly.

Ernie glanced over to everyone in the room and winked.

"Could you speak up Malfoy, I couldn't hear you," he said.

"For the love of… Slytherins stink."

Everyone in the room laughed and Ernie finally let them in.

"That was so bloody witty," Blaise said sarcastically.

"It's what makes it brilliant," Ernie replied.

"Just wait until one of us picks the password, Mack," Pansy said. "What is your name anyway?"

"Ernie Macmillan."

Only a vague sense of recognition crossed the Slytherins' faces.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say that Mack suits you better," Draco smirked. He looked around the room. "Are we the last ones here?"

"Not exactly," Padma said. "We're still waiting for one-."

The sound of footsteps was approaching in the corridor, and it wasn't long before Lavender Brown poked her head around the door. Hermione tried not to react; she was very aware of Padma's eyes on her. Had she known Lavender was the fourth Gryffindor? Is that why she had been asking if everything was okay?

"Oh am I the last one here?" Lavender giggled. Hermione fought back the urge to roll her eyes. Was it just her imagination or had this girl become even more insufferable than she remembered?

"Yeah you are," Ernie said.

"Oops," Lavender giggled again. Amusement tugged at Hermione's lips when she saw Draco, who was standing next to Lavender, wince and tilt his head away from her whilst giving her a cold scowl. Maybe it wasn't her imagination after all.

She must have smirked more obviously than she thought she'd let on, because Lavender caught her eye and immediately the smile fell from both witches' faces.

"Well since everyone's here now, shall we go downstairs and see what we've all let ourselves in for?" Susan smiled, pretending to be oblivious to the tense atmosphere that was now tangible in the room.

Everyone mumbled in agreement and started shuffling towards the exit, some taking longer than others from reluctance to leave the comfort of the chairs. As the small crowd shuffled around, Lavender let out an ear-splitting squeal.

"WON-WON!" she gasped, running through the room and practically pouncing on Ron. It all happened so fast that he didn't have time to process what was happening. Lavender's arms were wrapped around his neck but he made a point of showing Hermione that he wasn't hugging her back…but he didn't push her away either.

"Err hi?" he said when Lavender released him.

"I'm so happy that you're here. You should have owled me," Lavender said. "This last month has been so long and lonely," she pouted,

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked. His ears had turned red from the embarrassment that everybody was watching.

"Our break is over silly," Lavender smiled. "Remember, you said that you wanted some time to think over summer?"

Ron's face flushed to match his ears and he met Hermione's gaze across the room. Her eyebrows were raised and her fists were clenched. She couldn't believe this. Lavender may be a drip but she wasn't stupid enough to misconstrue a temporary break for an official one…was she?

Hermione couldn't believe Ron would ask her out while he was still technically dating Lavender, and not tell her about it! The air in the room suddenly felt thin, and the blood pounding in her ears drowned sound out.

Trying to save the pride and dignity she had left, Hermione lifted her chin and flounced out of the room without a word. Three out of the four Slytherins were making snarky comments about her and laughing, but she was most aware of the pair of cool, calculating grey eyes following her as she walked out.

She would peruse the possibilities of why _he_ was not laughing later.

* * *

As the sixteen candidates trooped into the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall greeted them. Ron had attempted to catch up with Hermione on several occasions on the way down there, but Lavender always pulled him back saying that Hermione 'wasn't worth the effort'. How dare she!

Hermione had half a mind to wipe that sickening smile off Lavender's face and tell her exactly what had happened whilst she and her precious 'Won-Won' were on a break, but that would be counter-productive, and make her look as much of a fool if not more of one, than Lavender.

She made a point to stand on the other side of the Hall to him. He tried to make a break for it when Lavender's back was turned but she grabbed him again. Ron scowled but he made no attempt to shake her off.

"Greetings," McGonagall said. "I trust you all settled in comfortably."

She wasn't met with a unanimous response. Some people in the group nodded politely, whilst others muttered about the bedrooms not being sorted yet, and others (namely the Slytherins) leapt at the opportunity to complain about the password fiasco.

"Dear Merlin are you all forgetting why you are here?" The older witch sighed. "If you are expecting your problems to be solved by a member of staff, then that alone tells me that you are not suitable to take on the roles of Head Boy and Girl."

McGonagall's face remained stern but there was a twinkle of humour within her eyes. Hermione smiled; she always liked her Head of House. Silence suddenly befell the Hall, and the Professor continued to speak.

"Which brings me nicely into my explanation of how this system will work. Over the course of the summer, you will all be tested on the strength of desired personal qualities to fit the roles. Some of these include communication, teamwork, initiative, and trust, amongst others. You would do well to assume that anything that is not explained in full is a test in itself," she said with a pointed look at Ernie and Draco, who had been asking about the rooms and passwords, respectively.

"As explained in your letters, these tests will take place at different intervals, leaving you all with occasional free days to visit Hogsmeade or your families. Are there any questions so far?"

Ron raised his hand.

"Yes Mr Weasley?" McGonagall asked: doing her best to blank out the fact that Lavender was clinging to Ron's other arm like a permanent sticking charm had been cast on her.

"Er Professor Dumbledore was saying a lot of stuff about this system mainly being used this year to promote inter-house unity, and that just picking two students from different houses wouldn't be as effective. What exactly did he mean?"

A few of the other students perked up at his question. Apparently Dumbledore had been passing on his cryptic messages to everyone he could.

"Well, two out of three times in the past, the Head Boy and Girl partnerships have been anything _but_ harmonious, and for the most part the circumstances where the pairing did work was due to them being from the same house," at this McGonagall gave Harry a small smile, acknowledging that his parents had been the Heads during their time at Hogwarts.

"So how is this system going to make sure there _is_ a harmonious partnership?" asked Daphne.

"I trust you all understand that the partnership between the Heads must be the strongest it can be in order to give the rest of the school the best chance of blurring the divides between certain groups and houses that the impact of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named left behind."

Hermione was vaguely aware of the way Justin moved a little closer towards her – further away from Draco – as McGonagall said this.

"So what is this going to be like survival of the fittest or something?" Terry asked, his eyes lighting up.

"If you are suggesting that you will all be having a fight to the death for the positions then you, Mr Boot have got the wrong end of the stick. However, the premise of your point remains the same. This is, indeed, going to be something of a competition to determine which students are most suited. In the light of this being about finding a strong unit, you will be paired off before the tests begin, and compete against one another as eight teams of two."

A chorus of excited murmurs rang around the room.

"Returning to my earlier point, it is imperative that the dynamics between the Heads are as strong as possible, so I must warn you in advance that some of the devised tests may seem pointless or utterly bonkers at first, but the over-the-top nature of some of them will only allow the staff to make the correct choice. I am sure I am not alone when I say that the atmosphere in the school last year was fragile to say the least."

Hermione nodded at McGonagall's words. However strange it seemed, it was true. When Voldemort was destroyed, the already rocky relationship between Slytherin house and the rest of the school seemed to tear into nothing. Only half of the house returned last year, so they were inherently outnumbered to begin with, but some of the students were targeted purely because their family had associations with some of the Death Eaters who were present at the Ministry.

True to their nature, the ostracising of the Slytherins had led to them fighting back, which only seemed to sever the bonds even further. It was completely mad; Hermione would have thought that Voldemort's downfall would make everyone let bygones be bygones, but she supposed that those who hadn't really had a voice when he was in power – namely the Muggleborns – felt confident in finally speaking out, perhaps in wanting someone to blame for the deaths their families had suffered by Voldemort's wand.

"Now, I believe that is all of the introductions over with," the deputy headmistress said. "Moving right along, the first stage of this process is to, naturally, determine the pairs -."

McGonagall explained that because this was the 'guinea pig year' for the system, it had been agreed to settle on two house pairings that would make up the Heads before narrowing them down, just to make the system a whole, flow easier and more quickly.

She waved her wand and conjured a row of eight adjoining booths, all separated by opaque and soundproof walls. They were told that this exercise would be rotational, so the same thing would be done with all of the possible combinations of pairings. Professors Snape and Dumbledore entered the Hall then. Their role would be to oversee (or hear) all conversations, and determine from that the best way to pair off the houses based on how the students communicated with one another.

There was a brief bustle as everyone moved to take a seat in a booth with some of the opposite sex and who was in a different house to them. Hermione immediately regretted her sensible decision to stand at the sidelines until everyone else was seated, for the only remaining seat was in the far-left booth opposite Draco Malfoy.

_Typical, _she sighed to herself before sitting down. Even Blaise seemed like a better option than Malfoy, but alas, Lavender had swiped the seat opposite Blaise after making a meal out of a long-winded and mushy goodbye with Ron.

McGonagall shot up a puff of smoke from her wand next, which swirled around until it formed a countdown clock. Five minutes with Draco Malfoy… would they even survive that long without hexing each other? She sincerely doubted it. Then again, he hadn't joined in the jeering and laughing earlier when the unfortunate Lavender incident unfurled… unless he was just saving his jibes for a time like this where she couldn't escape.

"You will have five minutes to communicate with the other about a task the Heads will have to complete. This same topic of discussion will be the same throughout this test. Off you go."

The smoke in the air started morphing into different numbers as the time began to count down. Hermione was aware of the skulking shapes of Snape and Dumbledore – who weren't affected by the sound-proofing charms - at either side of the line of booths, but she couldn't hear anything. She felt like she was trapped in some kind of interrogation room with Malfoy.

"Granger," he greeted, with a curl of his lip.

"Malfoy," she responded.

A piece of parchment popped up in the middle of the table that separated them. Draco made a show of clearing his throat before reading from it.

"If you two were chosen to become the Head Boy and Girl, how would you go about organising the rotas for both the prefect's duties and your own?"

"Simple," he said straight away. "We wouldn't need to, because there is no way in hell I'd work with you."

Hermione sighed and gritted her teeth; she could very well regret what she was about to say but it was worth a shot. "Come on Malfoy, you could at least _try_ and be civil. However much you're praying to the founders that you won't be stuck with me for the next month doesn't matter. There's a chance it could happen so I'd appreciate it if you'd co-operate."

"The thought did cross my mind, Granger, but after that stunt with the password I think being civil to any of you is out of the question," he replied stubbornly.

"Grow up, will you? That wasn't some personal vendetta against you; it was just Ernie being … Ernie."

Draco regarded her for a long moment with hard and steely eyes. "Can you honestly blame me for assuming it wasn't just some stupid prank? My father _was_ at the Department of Mysteries that night."

Hermione winced. Part of her wanted to call him out on being melodramatic, but then again, she had never even considered what it could have been like. More to the point, she hadn't cared.

Gritting her teeth again, she said, "I suppose I can't. But for the next four minutes can we just call a truce and get this task over with?"

Draco frowned at her. It wasn't a hateful, snarling one, but more, one of confusion.

"Fine," he sighed.

"Okay," Hermione said. "So with this rota question, I'd say that I'd be able to take charge of that."

Draco cocked an eyebrow, his grey eyes locking onto her through his white-blond fringe. "Funny, that was going to be my answer, too," he drawled.

"No offense, but I think I'm more organised than you," Hermione argued.

"Oh and what makes you think that?" the Slytherin asked.

Hermione looked off to the side as she considered her answer. Not once did Draco's gaze leave her. It was quite off-putting, actually. "Maybe that came out wrong," she said. "We could be equally organised but the fact is that I have the stronger work ethic."

"Meaning?" Draco prompted arrogantly.

"Meaning that I wouldn't abuse my position of authority. Don't think that I've forgotten about your little fifth year stint as one of Umbridge's lackeys!"

Draco calculated her for a moment before a smirk adorned his pale face.

_Here we go, _thought Hermione.

"Actually Granger, if you really opened up that narrow-minded brain of yours and thought about that objectively, I believe that was me simply following the wishes of the headmistress. Therefore, I was not abusing my position."

Hermione growled under her breath. "Well what about your position as a prefect? I seem to recall you'd dock points and put students in detention for the most trivial things."

"That was almost two years ago, Granger. It's out of my system. Sort of. Anyway I think you'll find that my work ethic has been proven to be just as strong as yours judging by my O.W.L grades."

"Mine are higher though."

"Bloody hell Granger, must you always insist on point-scoring? It's highly unlikely we'd be paired up anyway since we're always arguing, thank Merlin," he snapped. "Just let me take care of sorting the hypothetic rotas and you can patter around being a brown-noser and running errands for the teachers."

"I am not a brown-noser!" Hermione bristled.

Draco snorted derisively, "Right."

"I'm not!"

"Okay, you're not a brown-noser… you're a _bookworm_ brown-noser-."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"All right fine, you're not," he sighed. But a moment later he locked eyes with Hermione and winked at her, indicating that he still didn't believe her.

She sighed and looked up at the clock; they still had three minutes left. Even when they had called a truce he could be annoying as hell.

"Tell me something Granger," Draco said, crossing his hands on the table in front of him. "How do you propose I'd abuse my position of authority in this circumstance?"

"Oh I don't know," Hermione said sarcastically. "Maybe make sure the Gryffindor prefects have twice as much work to do as the Slytherins?"

He smirked. "You know me so well, Granger."

"And there-in lies my point," she said. "So I'd be better off taking charge of the rotas."

Draco scoffed. "As if I'd trust you not to rig it in the favour of the Gryffindorks. You may come off as a goody two-shoes but I get the feeling there's a scheming, biased part of you waiting for an opportunity like this to present itself, which brings me back around to my brown-nosing point-."

"Mature," Hermione rolled her eyes. "And I wouldn't do that, I'm not as shallow as you."

"Oh really?" he raised an eyebrow again in amusement.

"Really," Hermione said, feeling her patience wearing thin.

"What is your basis for that argument?"

"The word 'Mudblood' does spring to mind," she said without thinking.

Draco's cocky smirk was wiped from his face in an instant. "I haven't called you that in years, Granger. And I find little point in starting again, especially after last year," he said steadily. "What the hell do I have to gain anymore?"

Hermione's shoulders slumped and she stared ashamedly at the table.

"Granted, I may still be a bigot, but it isn't exactly easy to cast aside so many years of prejudice just like that. At least I've stopped using that word and openly saying-."

"You're right, that was uncalled for."

"What was that?" Draco said. "I didn't hear you."

Hermione lifted her head. "I said that you were right. What I said was uncalled for."

"What?" Draco said again, leaning across the table with his ear directed towards her.

Hermione shook her head when she saw the amused smirk pulling at his lips. "You're an arse," she said. "You so blatantly heard me that time."

He laughed and pulled away from her. "Fine, you got me. I don't think I'd ever get tired of hearing you tell me I'm right."

Hermione half-heartedly rolled her eyes and stared at the table again, chewing her lip.

She was surprised by what the blond opposite her said next. "Trouble in paradise, or rather, Weasel World?"

"What?" she half expected his signature, mocking smirk to be present when she looked at him, but there wasn't one.

"You seem snippier than usual today, Granger," he commented. "Let's face it, there are only two options. Either it's your time of the month-."

"Malfoy!" she cringed and flushed at his blunt wording.

"-Or this has something to do with Weasley-."

"It's none of your-."

"- It couldn't possibly be anything to do with me," he went on. "I know that deep down you enjoy our… _challenging_ conversations."

"Honestly, don't you have a modest bone in your body?"

Hermione immediately regretted her choice of words when she saw the smirk re-appear.

"Maybe not but I can tell you about another kind of-."

"ROTAS!" She yelled in her haste to not hear the end of that sentence, and to get back on track.

Draco grinned. "Merlin, I'm joking, Granger. You make it too easy for me; you're so innocent."

"Being innocent's not a bad thing, you know?" Hermione said indignantly.

"I know but it's amusing watching you get all uncomfortable when there's the slightest reference to-."

"La la la la la la!" Hermione threw her hands over her ears. She was blushing furiously when it registered that Snape and Dumbledore would be listening in to every word. Was it just her or was it really hot in this Hall all of a sudden?

Draco was laughing when she deemed it safe to remove her hands. He glanced at the countdown clock. "Oh, shit," he said. "One and a half minutes, Granger."

"Err, right," Hermione said, still a little flustered. "So, where were we on the rotas topic?"

"I believe we were unanimous in the fact that neither of us would trust the other to take charge of it," Draco drawled, as composed as ever. He half-smiled when he saw Hermione's red cheeks, but he didn't comment.

"Right," she said. "What if I do the prefect's ones and you do our duties, and then we read what the other has put to make sure there's no favouritism?"

"That doesn't exactly solve our problem," Draco replied, running a hand through his hair. "We can still cross stuff out and screw the other over," he smirked when Hermione blushed again. "And that could lead to us just going around in circles."

"Point taken," Hermione sighed. One minute was left. "How about we just do it together?"

Draco grinned at her and she buried her face in her hands. "You're bloody impossible," she said into them.

"I believe it was you who made the innuendo that time, Granger," he drawled.

"It wasn't intentional, though."

"They're the best ones," he shrugged. "Anyway, yes, I agree that that would be the best solution."

Silence fell over their booth and Draco and Hermione locked eyes once more before waiting out the rest of the time doing everything they could not to look at each other.

Finally the time ended, and McGonagall told the boys to move to someone else so the process could be repeated. Hermione let out a long breath as Draco departed without so much of a backwards glance at her, and waited patiently for someone to take his place.

Was it just her imagination or had he actually been _flirting_ with her? She scoffed to herself, and quickly dismissed the idea. That would never happen; for one thing they greatly disliked each other, and for another, he admitted that he found amusement in making her feel uncomfortable. That had just been the same old Malfoy who just so happened to have picked up on another tactic to annoy her with. Nothing more.

It hadn't escaped Hermione's attention that he seemed to have made it his goal in life to piss her off as much as he could; with each passing school year he had become even more insufferable than the last. His insults and jibes hadn't been cruel like in their early years at Hogwarts, but much more frequent, which in some ways was worse.

Still, Hermione couldn't deny the fact that their usual banter had made her momentarily forget about the Ron and Lavender issue, which had been playing on her mind the whole time. He actually seemed more…_ pleasant _than usual today too. Hermione frowned; maybe in some twisted way the rebellion against the Slytherins last year had made him grow up.

"Alright, Mione?" Ernie said with a cheeky sideways grin as he sat down.

"Oh, hi Ernie," she smiled in return.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You seem a bit… pink."

_A bit? _Hermione thought. By the way her face felt she thought she'd seem more like a beetroot than 'a bit pink'.

"Fine," she said as nonchalantly as she could. "But I've just had the displeasure of being in Malfoy's company for the last five minutes."

"Ah," Ernie said. "Figures."

"Yeah," Hermione nodded. "Figures…"

* * *

The rest of the process was considerably easier than the beginning, mainly because the other five boys Hermione could potentially be paired with were much easier to reach a conclusion with. This was possibly with the exception of Blaise, who took a leaf out of Draco's book and decided to be a complete arse the whole time.

_Godric help the poor sods who are stuck with the Slytherins, _Hermione thought wearily.

_To be continued…_


	3. The Pairs

**A/N: **Hey everyone! Glad to see that you're enjoying it so far :)

Just so you know I've been busy writing stuff for other competitions on this site so I haven't had as much chance to write for this. It'll be a but of a longer wait for chapter 4 - sorry!

But... I hope you enjoy this one.

* * *

**3**

**:. The Pairs .:**

"Would you keep it down over there?"

Draco turned his head in the direction of the living area of the common room, where that Patil girl had taken it upon herself to lead the discussions-cum-arguments about the bedroom arrangements.

He and Blaise had been engaged in a rather frantic game of Exploding Snap at the tables towards the back of the room. Frankly, Draco couldn't see how they could possibly be disturbing anyone; with the ruckus some of them were making he had half a mind to tell _them_ to keep it down.

"See Patil, it's kind of impossible to make this game quiet," Blaise said. "The clue is kind of in the name."

Padma, who was stood in the centre of the living area with her hands on her hips, bristled. Draco frowned; this kind of thing – bossing everyone around making sure your voice was the loudest – seemed something Granger would have taken charge of. Out of curiosity his eyes wandered over to scope her out.

She was curled around in one of the large armchairs with a book in her hands; her fingers were gripping tightly to the sides and she was chewing her lip and staring hard at the pages. Draco could tell that she wasn't really reading, having adopted the same façade in his sixth year to distract his thoughts from the plethora of jibes against his family were being continuously shot his way.

At first he fought back with insults and hexes alike, but that only seemed to add fuel to the fire, not to mention a lot of detentions, and Draco was forced to learn the tough lesson that sometimes not reacting was the best way to get people to back off. This had opened up a can of worms, for this realisation then led him to notice that he'd been referring to the witch he was still staring at as a Mudblood even less with each year, because she had stopped reacting somewhere through fourth year.

"Malfoy?" Padma was looking at him curiously.

_Shit, _Draco thought. He plastered an indifferent sneer onto his face. "What?"

"You lot can at least try to get involved in this discussion," the witch sighed.

"And tell me, what difference would our contribution make?" Draco asked when a quick glance at his housemates told him they were all thinking the same thing. "Because it seems pretty clear that whatever you lot decide, there won't be any inter-house room sharing with us. We're just waiting to see which room we'll be in," he drawled with a shrug.

"Still, we want everyone's opinions," she said with a pointed look at everyone in the living area, "so just at least drag your Slytherin arses over here."

Draco and Blaise shared a look before he responded. "That wasn't a hint that we wanted to share with the likes of you lot."

"So why did you say anything?"

"Just making a point that none of you want us here," Draco said evenly. The exchange of glances and guilty blushes that spread through the group was more than enough to prove it.

"Come on Malf… Draco," Padma said stiffly. "This whole system is about severing those divides, so as possible Head Boys and Girls, it's only fitting that we start now, so we can set an example next year."

Draco smirked, "By Merlin, that was a preaching speech worthy of Granger."

The way Hermione's head snapped up immediately proved Draco's other theory that she hadn't been reading at all; she had been alert and listening the whole time. Draco arched an eyebrow knowingly at her, and she quickly looked back down at the book.

"Just come and sit over here," Padma said.

"Would that make you happy, Patil?"

"Yes."

"What's in it for us?" Draco smirked.

"Bloody hell, I know you were difficult in the task earlier but do you always have to be like that?" Hannah cut in.

All of the girls mumbled in agreement between themselves.

Draco sighed and looked at Padma again, "You're not going to carry on until we go over are you?"

"Nope," Padma said, a triumphant glint in her eyes.

"Bloody fine!" Draco said, dragging himself up and sauntering over to the group. Blaise, Daphne and Pansy followed suit, all groaning to themselves.

"Move over, Mack," Daphne smiled at Ernie, who just rolled his eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a warning look from Padma made him think better of it, and he shuffled over.

Draco frowned; what was it about guys in his year being scared of their girlfriends? After perching on the arm of the sofa beside Daphne, he groaned when he realised he was face-to-face with Weasley and that weedy Gryffindor girl whose name escaped Draco's memory. What he did know, was that she was obviously the one who wore the trousers in her relationship with Weasel, just like Padma was in hers with Mack, because she was sitting on his lap with her arms thrown around his neck, whilst Weasley's expression suggested he wanted to kill himself… not that Draco would complain if he did.

Weasley was looking hard at a certain spot, as if wanting to catch someone's attention. Draco followed his gaze, and was vaguely interested when he ended up looking at Granger again, who was still refusing to look up from her book. Draco smirked in amusement when he put two and two together and realised that his joke about Weasley getting on her nerves earlier had actually been spot-on.

"Right," Padma's voice brought Draco's thoughts back to reality. "What are people's thoughts about how many should be in each room?"

Anthony raised his hand and suggested twos or fours since they split evenly from sixteen and eight would be too many. Susan then went on to point out that two could seem too intimate, and four would be ideal. Draco was surprised when Daphne actually contributed something to the discussion.

"Why are you all making this so complicated? Surely the easiest solution would be to room with people in our houses?"

In Draco's peripheral vision he saw Hermione raise her head, a look of panic and dread all too evident in her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek, as if trying to stop herself from saying something.

A murmur rippled through the group.

"If we do houses then two to a room could work if people aren't comfortable with sharing with everyone in their house," Terry Boot suggested, having picked up on Hermione's reaction.

"Oooh, dibs that I share with my Won-Won!" Everyone looked in Lavender's direction.

"Err…" Ron began uncertainly. "About that…"

The sound of rustling took Draco's attention elsewhere, namely Hermione's direction (again). She was standing up now, the book lying closed in the chair. She shot a hurt glance in Ron's direction and started across the room.

"Excuse me," she muttered, heading out of the common room.

Blaise frowned and leaned over to Draco. "What's with her today? D'ya reckon it's her special time?"

"I don't much care if it is or not," Draco said as Hermione's bushy hair disappeared out of sight.

* * *

Hermione's thoughts were one big blur as her feet carried her through the corridors of the castle. She didn't know where she was going, nor did she care. As long as she was away from the common room she was happy.

The sound of running footsteps approached from behind.

"Look Ronald, whatever you have to say, just save it," she sighed as she turned to face him.

"How the bloody hell did you know it was me?" he frowned, scratching his head.

"Does it matter, right now?" she scoffed.

"I s'pose not," Ron said. "Look, about Lavender-."

"If you're looking for my permission to date her -."

"No, just listen. I don't know where the bloody hell she got the idea from that we were on a -."

"-Then you've got it," Hermione finished, cutting him off. "Not that you needed it, anyway."

Ron froze. "What?"

"I don't know if it's true that this 'break' between you was a big misunderstanding or not, but either way it's pretty clear that you want to be with her."

"Hermione," Ron frowned. "Where the hell did you get that from? I want to be with you. I suggested this break between us _for_ you."

"Really? Because it seems pretty fishy to me that you decide to suggest a break with me conveniently around the same time your break with Lavender ended," she argued, folding her arms.

"Mione, just listen," Ron pleaded, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look him in the eye. "It really was a misunderstanding with Lavender. I told her that I wanted to end things but you know what she's like. She has selective hearing, I swear."

"And yet, you haven't attempted to push her off or re-iterate that it was an official break-up the whole day," Hermione said, pushing his hands away. "We're single, Ron; you have the right to date whomever you please. But I just wish you would have done something or said something to her so that it makes me think that what we had wasn't some cheap and meaningle-."

"Don't say it," Ron said. "Hermione, what we had could never be meaningless. You're my best friend."

With those words, the pieces of the jigsaw started to fall into place in Hermione's head.

"Ron, come and sit with me for a while," she said, leading the way into the cool summer night air of one of the courtyards. Ron followed her and sat beside her on a bench.

"I know you well enough to know that you're not afraid of confrontations," she said. "Which means there must be something that's holding you back from telling Lavender you meant to break up with her properly."

"Mione, I don't want to be with her-," Ron started to repeat but Hermione held up a hand.

"But you don't want to tell her that yet," she said. "Something's holding you back."

"You're going to do that creepy thing where you tell me what I'm thinking aren't you?" Ron laughed half-heartedly.

"Something like that," Hermione said gently. "Tell me if I'm wrong, but I think you've realised that being around Lavender again feels different to the last month when you've been with me. Maybe you're starting to see what I meant a week ago when I told you I think we're better off as friends."

Ron let out a long sigh. "You're right," he said, "as usual. But I still think I feel something for you, Mione. It's more familiar than anything I've ever felt with Lavender. I know you're going to say it's just friendship but to me it feels like more than that."

Hermione pursed her lips and took a deep breath. "Maybe we should extend this deal we made," she said. "We'll be single for this month, and then we'll come to a mutual agreement on September first about how we feel about maybe getting back together."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here," Ron said slowly.

Hermione smiled. "_But _I don't think we should rule out the idea of seeing other people in the mean time, for you at least. For me, this is about having more time to consider how I feel about you, whereas I think you could benefit from -."

"- Finding out if being with someone else feels different from when I was with you," he finished. "Are you sure about this, Mione?"

"No but in a way I suppose seeing you with someone else will make my part in this a little easier," she said. "I just bloody wish you would have tried a little harder earlier to get away from Lavender so you could say something to me. I've been so mad at you all day."

"Which is understandable," Ron said. "You have no idea how horrible I've felt, knowing how it must have looked to you. But every time Lavender would grab my hand I'd feel this… heat, I guess…"

Ron's voice trailed away when Hermione moved and covered his hand with hers.

"Anything?" she asked.

"There's something there," he said. "But it's not the same, which is bloody mental because I'm pretty sure I don't fancy Lavender, she won't leave me-."

Hermione laughed, "Maybe what you're feeling now is just friendship."

"Yeah," Ron sighed. "Maybe."

* * *

After her talk with Ron, Hermione decided she wasn't ready to go back to the common room yet. From the bench in the courtyard she could see a full moon emerge from behind the clouds that had been lingering all day. She decided she would take a stroll up to the Astronomy Tower, knowing that nobody would think to look for her there, for her favourite places in the castle grounds were the library and the bank of the lake.

She climbed the staircase and walked over to the balcony, marvelling at how big the moon looked from up there. At first she wasn't sure if it was a wise move to suggest that Ron see other people over the summer, but now that it had been agreed, she realised that she didn't actually care if he did or not, and that her annoyance today had only been down to the misunderstanding that their brief relationship had just been a bit on the side whilst he was also still with Lavender. Now that that was straightened out, Hermione's head felt as clear as the night sky.

Her mind started to wander to the Head Boy and Girl system. She wondered which house her partner for this competition would be in. She wondered if she'd be able to work with them well, and moreover, she wondered what basis the Professors would have for deciding on certain house pairings. They were to find out in three days, and Hermione was too intrigued and excited to be patient about it. Three days was a lot of free time to fill.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realise someone was coming up the spiral staircase to the tower until she heard a derisive sigh.

"Bloody hell now even my spot has been infiltrated by Gryffindors," Draco muttered to himself.

Hermione whipped around, "Excuse me?"

"Since when do you come up here, Granger?" he asked, folding his arms.

"I shouldn't have to explain myself to you," she leant with her back to the railings and mirrored his stance.

"Why so defensive? I was only making conversation," Draco drawled.

"Your conversational tone seems rather accusatory to me," Hermione sniffed. "I only came up here to get away from the common room. It was nice and peaceful up here until you showed up."

"There's that snippy tone again," Draco said, walking over to the balcony and standing next to her. "What's going on with Weasel?"

"What are you-?"

"Don't play dumb Granger, I saw your face when Goldstein suggested that everyone rooms with the other three people from their house," he drawled, arching a blond brow. "It's funny; it was the exact same expression that you had pretty much all last year when Weasel and that Daisy girl were inhaling each other's faces."

"You mean Lavender?"

"Do I?" he asked with a blank expression. Apparently he really did have no idea about her name. Hermione couldn't help but smile at that.

"You were watching me last year?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brows.

"Don't flatter yourself," he scoffed. "No-one had to be watching you, Granger. You'd have to be a bloody moron not to notice you have a thing for Weasel, though for what reason I cannot imagine."

Hermione chewed her lip. Was this seriously happening? _Malfoy_, of all people, had picked up on her feelings for Ron last year?

Draco saw her face and frowned. "What? Granger, don't tell me he was too thick to notice-."

"Was it bad for you last year?" Hermione asked in her desperation to change the subject, suddenly remembering his earlier comment about his father being at the Department of Mysteries that night. It couldn't have been a pleasant school year for him, not that she felt sorry for him given all of the crap she'd put up with from him over the years.

A shadow passed over Draco's aristocratic features, emphasising his pointed bone structure. "What?"

Hermione knew immediately that she'd said the wrong thing. "Er it's just that when you came up here, you implied that you came up here a lot."

"So?" he spat.

"So, everyone has that one place to clear their heads and to think. You took it as a personal intrusion when you saw me here, so I just thought this might be yours."

"Now's not the time for your invasive psycho-analysis, Granger," Draco sighed and put his hands in his pockets. " But you're right," he said. His eyes were clear enough in delivering his message: he had come up here to do just those things.

"Oh, I'll er leave you to it then," Hermione mumbled. She started to walk away when Draco sighed and caught her wrist. She flinched.

Everything about the Slytherin was cold; his attitude, his pale complexion, his ice-blond hair and his slate-grey eyes, so it was only logical to assume that his skin would feel cold at the touch as well. Except it wasn't. In a complete contrast to his appearance, a rush of heat shot through his palm and through Hermione's wrist and into her body.

"You don't have to go, Granger," he said slowly.

She turned, frowning. "What?"

"You heard," he sighed.

"_You _are actually asking _me_ to stay?" Hermione was utterly baffled.

"Are you deaf or is it just that you have too much hair to hear through?" he shook his head. "I didn't tell you to stay, but rather 'you don't have to go'."

"Oh, right," Hermione blushed, noticing that he was still holding her wrist. He seemed to notice too and released her, and suddenly the buzz of heat dissolved into nothing. "It's just, I would have thought you'd rather die than spend five minutes in the same place as me."

"Where did you get that idea?" he drawled.

"Well, the task earlier," she said. "You seemed rather put out at the prospect of five minutes in a booth with me, then. Not to mention your hissy fit about the possibility of us actually having to work together for this."

Draco smirked. "Well, quite honestly I'd prefer it if you just left than have to suffer your company but I'll admit that Patil has a point about having to try harder to let bygones be bygones."

"Even so, I'd think that I'd be the last person you'd consider trying to be civil with," Hermione's curiosity was piqued. "I know it must be very taxing for you," she said sarcastically.

"You have no idea," Draco replied. "And in some twisted way, Granger, you're the only person who isn't in Slytherin I feel somewhat normal around."

"Oh?" Hermione said, walking over to him again.

Draco looked straight ahead, leaning on his elbows against the railings of the balcony. The moonlight reflected in his usually steely irises, making then seem brighter, almost silver.

"This is rather one-sided Granger. I'm not partial to freely telling people my innermost thoughts, but I could be swayed if you shared something too. Consider it a business transaction, if you will."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why bother telling me this much and then not explain everything?" she huffed.

Draco shrugged, "It's amusing."

"Arse," Hermione muttered.

"So, going to tell me about Weasel?"

"Why are you so determined to know about that?"

"It seems the only mildly intriguing thing you have to offer in exchange," Draco answered.

"You're so manipulative," Hermione sighed.

"I like to think of this as give and take,"

"Same difference," Hermione muttered, for once, not picking up on the innuendo. "I don't want to tell you anything about Ron and me because it isn't any of your business."

Draco's jaw tensed. "Fine, have it your way."

He pivoted on the spot and barged past her, accidentally on purpose knocking her shoulder as he did so.

"Malfoy!" Hermione called after him.

"Don't think I'm going to bother trying to make conversation with you again, Granger," he called after his shoulder and descended the staircase.

Hermione stood rooted to the spot, not entirely sure what had just happened. She sighed, conceding that that was possibly the closest she and Malfoy would ever come to having an actual conversation.

Draco reached the bottom step and set off alone through the dark corridors, his mind racing. It maybe wasn't his business to ask about Weasel, but it certainly wasn't Granger's to ask how last year had been for him. She couldn't possibly give a damn about him, so why on earth did she ask?

Eventually Draco settled on it being down to her habit of having to stick her nose into everything, but his mind still wouldn't switch off. He knew trying to be civil to Granger twice in one day would be a bad move.

* * *

Despite Hermione's impatience to get on with the competition, the next three days went by relatively quickly and painlessly.

When she returned to the dormitories after leaving the Astronomy Tower the first night, the bedroom arrangements seemed like a bit of a free-for-all with who was rooming with whom, but it had been decided that everyone would be sharing with one other person. She had apparently missed out on an in-depth debate about whether they ought to be bringing the inter-house idea into the room assignments. Padma was convinced that the Professors were testing them and therefore, would expect such an outcome, whilst the Hufflepuffs argued that expecting that of them would be a stretch too extreme.

The arrangements would have been easier to organise between the Gryffindors, had Ron not made it clear that he had intended to break up with Lavender for good before Hermione arrived, because the mousy-haired girl then point-blank refused to room with any of her housemates (not that Hermione minded) and demanded to stay with Padma, who had originally been planning to share with Ernie, but gave in to her friend's demands since she was determined to keep the peace. Ernie wasn't best pleased about this but seemed content enough to share with Justin, although he requested that he and Padma switch one or two nights so he could 'spend time with his lady'.

Hermione didn't really see what all the fuss was about, since they were only required to stay in the castle for maybe two or three days at a time, depending on how the tasks of the system would work, and they could go home or visit family in the mean-time. In the end the arrangements were quite predictable, with everyone for the most part sharing with their housemate of the same gender. The exceptions to this rule were Lavender and Padma and Hermione and Mandy.

The Ravenclaw girl seemed nice enough, if not a bit quiet, but Hermione didn't mind. As long as Mandy wasn't as annoying as Lavender then she was happy.

Bedroom dramas aside, the only other conflict that had come about in three days was of course, the inevitable password change. At the first chance they could get someone had changed it to 'Sexy Slytherins'. It was a little ironic that they were all here to bring inter-house unity to the school and yet their passwords completely contradicted that notion.

The newest password made Hermione cringe whenever she had to enter the common room, and for more reasons than her Gryffindor pride. All four of the Slytherins were plenty arrogant enough to make such a password, and all of them denied it when confronted. Hermione was convinced it was Draco, if not for the amused glint in his eyes whenever he heard someone say it than anything else.

She hadn't really spoken a word to him since that first night. Then again, she hadn't had much chance since she; Harry and Ron had stayed over at The Burrow on the second night before returning to the castle the next afternoon, when everyone was required to be present again. She and Ron had seemed to come to an unspoken agreement to not speak of their conversation on the first night, which was just as well since Hermione didn't want there to be any awkward tension between them.

Almost everyone had returned home at some point during this three-day period. Almost. Hermione didn't know why, but she couldn't help but notice that Draco was not one of those people. She found herself wanting to ask him about it but she decided against it. Merlin knows she already pushed his buttons too far at the Astronomy Tower and she knew he'd never give her a straight answer if she questioned him again.

But still…

"Guys!" Ernie's voice, along with the sound of his running footsteps echoed through the common room. A dull thud sounded against the door, presumably from the impact of him colliding with it. "Ow…" he muttered and everyone laughed. "I guess someone switched the password whilst I was gone, huh?"

"Yes they did," Draco exchanged smirks with the rest of the Slytherins.

"Well I don't know it so let me in."

"No can do, Mack," Blaise said as he lounged on one of the sofas, his hands folded behind his head. "You need the password to get in."

"But I don't know the password!" Ernie cried. "How the hell am I supposed to get in? This is so unfa-… oh."

Pansy smirked. "Not so funny when it's you who can't get in, is it?"

Ernie sighed sulkily. "No," he admitted. "All right I've learned my lesson. Let me in, now."

"Come on Mack, let's be fair about this," Draco drawled as he sank down into one of the armchairs. "Bloody hell this makes my arse feel incredible," he commented. "Oi Zabini, do you reckon someone was conspiring against our house by giving us those awful rock-hard leather chairs?"

"Wouldn't be surprised," Blaise replied.

"Hello?" Ernie shouted.

"Oh right," Draco said. "As I was saying, we need to be fair about this. That's what your bloody Powderpuff house-."

"Hufflepuff."

"Right, whatever," Draco waved a hand idly. "That's what your house is all about. I'm just being courteous and appreciating your values, Mack," he smirked.

"Something tells me that's not a good thing," Ernie said through the door.

"You wouldn't let _us_ in until we found out what your password was, so you aren't getting in until you guess ours," Daphne said, catching on to Draco's plan.

"But that's not fair," Ernie whined. "I don't know Legilimency."

"Tough," Blaise snapped.

"Okay okay," Hannah said, looking up from her game of Wizard's Chess against Terry. "You've had your fun and he's learned his lesson. Just let him in now."

"No," all four Slytherins shouted.

"Sexy Slytherins!" Padma shouted over them.

"Ouch, baby," Ernie said. "Flirting with the snakes right when your boyfriend is standing right outside the room? Has the last month meant nothing to you?"

"Bloody hell," Padma rolled her eyes. "That's the password, you idiot!"

A pause. "Oh right," Ernie laughed sheepishly.

"Goddamit, Patil!" Pansy hissed.

"Double standards, much?" Draco arched a brow.

Padma blushed. "He's my boyfriend; I'm entitled to be a little biased."

"Sexy Slytherins," Ernie muttered and the door opened. "Professor Dumbedore says we need to go down to the Great Hall."

"Why didn't you say that before?" Ron asked from the doorway of his dorm. "You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you just said that straight away."

"Wouldn't have made a difference to us, Weasel," Draco said.

"Point taken," Ron sighed and walked into the room. "Is this is then?" he asked Ernie. "We're going to find out who we could potentially become Head Boy and Girl with?"

"Yup," Ernie grinned.

Everyone immediately exchanged excited glances and all hurried to the door, chattering animatedly. This was with the exception of Draco and Blaise, who were experiencing the comfort of the chairs for the first time and were therefore reluctant to move.

Hermione didn't much fancy leaving her armchair either, so she left her book open to her bookmarked page in her seat in her own way of marking her territory as she stood up and waited by the door for Harry and Ron.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore was waiting patiently for them when they arrived.

"Ah here you are," he smiled. "I must say Mr Macmillan, I was beginning to wonder if you'd lost your way."

"Er there was a minor issue with the passwords, Professor," Ernie replied with a sideways glance at the Slytherins, who were all looking decidedly smug.

Dumbledore chuckled. "No matter, it was to be expected. Anyway I'm sure you already know why you have been called down here," he said, now speaking to the sixteen students. "Professor Snape and I have come to a conclusion about the pairing arrangements based on the task the other day. The reason I decided to tell you of our decision in person is purely due to the fact that I fear it would strike up many questions from you."

"Uh-oh, that can't be good," Ron whispered to Hermione and Harry, who both nodded stiffly.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath in the brief pause.

"I ask you all to listen to our reasoning before asking your own questions, however," the headmaster said. "Now, I can tell you all that the next Head Boy and Girl will either be-"

"Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin," Harry pleaded to himself in a way that reminded him of the day of his Sorting.

_Please don't let it be Malfoy, _Hermione prayed. It was pretty obvious to her that her house would be paired with the Slytherins. Her main concern was the identity of her partner for this system.

_Anyone but bloody Granger, _Draco thought, having also reached the same conclusion as Hermione.

"- A Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw- ," Dumbedore went on. He didn't have to finish his explanation, but he saw it fit to do so anyway, "- Or a Gryffindor and a Slytherin."

Even though Hermione knew this would be the outcome, she felt her stomach drop.

"Bollocks," Ron's head dropped forwards.

"Shit," Harry said.

"I hope I don't get Parkinson," Ron whispered.

"I hope _I _don't get Parkinson," Harry locked eyes with him.

The group was divided in their response to the news. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws – Ernie and Padma in particular – were very excited. The same couldn't be said for the Gryffindors and Slytherins, who were stood at opposite ends of the group and eyeing members of the other house up and down with scornful or doubtful glances.

"Lost. His. Marbles," Ron said as he spotted the way Dumbledore was watching everyone's reaction with amusement and interest.

"Hush, Ron," Hermione whispered. "I'm sure he has a valid explanation." Well, she hoped anyway.

Ron scoffed. "He bloody must do to pair us with that lot."

"I'm sure you're all wondering what that decision was based on," Dumbledore said, eyeing everyone over his half-moon spectacles. "Well, allow me to explain."

"Here we go," Ron said.

"The dynamic and relationship between the Heads must be give and take; they must consistently challenge each other to create a harmonious balance. Neither party can be too assertive whilst the other is more reserved, as this can create a situation where one does all the work, leaving the other to become lazy. The fundamental part of any Head Boy and Girl partnership is teamwork."

_Give and take…_Hermione chanced a glance at Draco when the headmaster echoed his words from the night at the Astronomy Tower. He was facing the front but for a split-second Hermione thought he caught her eye in his peripheral vision.

"With that in mind, Professor Snape and I listened to all of the conversations you had between yourselves about how you propose to organize the duty rotas for the prefects as well as your own. For the most part – although not unanimously – the Gryffindors' and Slytherins' gut instinct was to put themselves forward to take charge on the matter, whereas the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were more inclined to let their partner speak first and simply accommodate their wishes -."

Dumbledore paused when confused murmurs were exchanged amongst the students.

"I'm sure I can tell what you are all thinking: why then, put two headstrong houses together instead of creating a balance by say, putting Gryffindor with Hufflepuff?" He smiled when he saw several students nodding. "Well, if you recall my earlier point about it not being ideal to pair assertive with reserved, it should begin to make a little more sense."

"I'm beginning to think Snape did this to torture us and then brainwashed Dumbledore," Harry whispered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Do you really think he'd inflict the same torture onto his precious Slytherins? Besides, Dumbledore is making sense so far."

"Allow me to share the findings of the task with you," the older wizard said. "Whilst the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff and Slytherin/Ravenclaw conversations were over much more quickly and easily than the pairings we decided on, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws tended to be content with their partners to do the main bit of work whilst they simply assisted; however a lot more communication to reach a compromise went on between the house pairings you have been put in."

Hermione nodded along, recalling how her conversations with the Slytherins had been much longer then those with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw house. At the time she had just assumed it to be down to the fact that Draco and Blaise were just difficult to work with, not to mention very stubborn, but now that Dumbledore had told of his observations she was starting to feel slightly guilty about making such a judgement. Slightly. She had more than enough basis to confirm that Draco at least was difficult to work with, having had the 'pleasure' of his company on a Charms assignment once before.

"Gryffindors and Slytherins both tended to debate about who was most capable or worthy to take charge of the task, but by the end of the five minutes, the outcome was always the same: they had reached a compromise to simply work together on organising the rotas. The very same conclusion was reached between the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, though their means of reaching that point differed greatly. I like to think that you'll agree that working together is a better and more balanced option than one of you doing most of the work."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Even Harry and Ron contributed a grunt of acceptance.

"Excellent, now if there are no questions, I'd like to move on to the pairings we have decided upon."

Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"How did you go about deciding who would be best suited to partner whom, exactly?"

"That was a simpler task," Dumbledore said. "That was based upon how well you may have worked with one person compared to the other, and the chemistry you had with one another," he finished with a smile that had Hermione paranoid.

Across the room Draco merely arched a brow. All of a sudden he found himself wishing he _were _paired with Granger. It was a lose-lose situation, really, but between Granger and whatever her name was – the annoying one – he'd like to think Granger was the lesser of two evils… Muggleborn or not.

"Oh, and one more thing," the headmaster said. Draco groaned; why was this old fart extending the torture? "These pairs are not yet official. They may change after a quick test tomorrow, but they are most likely the ones that will stick. Now without further ado…"

Hermione was only vaguely listening to the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff pairs. She shuffled impatiently on the spot waiting for the news of who she'd be paired with. Ernie and Padma were predictably paired together. Susan and Terry were paired up along with Hannah and Anthony, and Justin and Mandy.

And then it was their turn. Both Harry and Ron stared hard at the floor, no doubt praying that it wasn't them who'd be stuck with Pansy.

"Miss Parkinson, you will be with Mr Weasley."

Ron groaned audibly, and Pansy's lip curled in disgust.

"Good luck mate," Harry grinned, clapping Ron on the back.

"So that means Miss Greengrass will be with Mr Potter," Dumbledore continued.

Harry and Daphne both regarded each other with a curt nod of the head.

"Mr Zabini, your partner is-."

Hermione held her breath, though she didn't know why. She didn't particularly see either of the Slytherin boys as the 'better' option.

"-Miss Brown."

_Shit, _both Hermione and Draco thought as Lavender let out a squeal and winked at Blaise. She seemed to have gotten over her break-up with Ron just fine.

"And lastly we have Mr Malfoy with Miss Granger."

Time seemed to stop. Hermione and Draco both looked up at each other at the same time, cool grey meeting brown. Both of them sighed, admitting their defeat before looking away again.

"Before you go back to your common room, I will tell you now that the system will officially be starting as of tomorrow, so you will be required to sleep in the castle tonight. I expect to see you all in here at one pm. Oh, and I'd advise you to get a spot of lunch before doing so, otherwise things may get a tad tricky," Dumbledore winked before dismissing everyone.

Hermione and Draco made eye contact again as he walked past her, Ron and Harry (purely out of his determination to get his comfy chair back). His face was as relaxed and void of emotion as ever, but his eyes gave him away. He definitely wasn't happy. Then again, it wasn't like Hermione felt any differently about it.

_To be continued…_


	4. The Toast

**A/N: **Once again, thank you for the lovely response everyone!

Apologies that this chapter is so short in comparison to the others. I did want to get a little further in the story but quite honestly chapter five has no good place to split it so this one seemed a little filler-ish when I was reading it back. Ah well, it has relevance to future chapters so it should be okay (I hope).

Chapter five will be up in a few days but there may be a longer wait for chapter six. (They are taking me twice as long to write since they're about 6-7K words). Yes, chapter six has already been written, but I like to write a few chapters in advance of publishing just in case I want to go back and change anything.

Sorry, I'm rambling. I'll let you read now.

Enjoy! :)

* * *

**4**

**:. The Toast .: **

"Granger?" Draco scoffed as he stormed into his dormitory and slammed the door. He blasted the curtains with his wand for good measure, but it did little to ease his anger.

"Whassup with you?" Blaise asked from his bed, cracking an eye open. He was lying on his back in his signature position with his hands folded behind his head. "You weren't this pissed off earlier."

Draco looked at his friend. "Granger, Mack and Potter are in the armchairs."

"Ah," Blaise said. "That's crap; those chairs are… _amazing_. I think I'm going to steal one when this thing is over with."

"Not a bad plan," Draco nodded, impressed. "I think I'll get in on that." He unbuttoned the black shirt he was wearing and let it hang open. "It's bloody hot in here tonight."

"Don't bloody wear black then," Blaise rolled his eyes. "Use a cool-air charm, you pillock."

Draco did just that. He cast the spell and rested his wand on the bedside table as he matched Blaise's position on his own bed, his skin being cooled by the air being projected by his wand.

"Hey, if you're that bothered about the chairs why not just sit on one of the sofas?" Blaise asked.

"It's not the same," Draco answered. "I'm not one for sharing. I was close to hexing some of them to make them move but I didn't think that would make Patil lay off me."

Blaise laughed. "Yeah, she's as bad as Granger, that one."

"I'm still pretty sure Granger is worse." A pause. "What the hell was Dumbledore thinking?"

"You should have said something."

"Like that would have made a bloody difference," Draco grunted. "Bloody 'chemistry' my arse."

"I don't know, that Brown girl and I got on quite nicely," his friend commented.

Draco arched a brow and turned his head sideways to look at Blaise across the room. "You don't think she's annoying?"

"Nah you know me, I always find the desperate ones more fun," Blaise said with a smirk.

"Maybe so but bloody hell that one can be shrill," Draco shuddered.

"Fit though."

And with that remark the debate ended. Blaise's comment about Lavender had calmed Draco's anger and sheer denial somewhat. If they got on really well, then that meant he had been paired with Hermione by default. That made much more sense.

* * *

Somewhere in the middle of the night Hermione woke up. Even with the window open and a cool-air charm cast on the room it was still sweltering. She swallowed but her throat was dry. Her eyelids were still droopy so she concluded that it was still too early to get up.

She dragged herself out of bed and into the common room to get a glass of water from the kitchenette. The heat that hit her when she left her dormitory was horrible; apparently the cool-air charm hadn't been a complete waste of time after all.

Hermione stumbled towards the sink and filled a glass with water. She downed it on one gulp, and then repeated the process before topping up the glass a third time to take back to her room. She wondered if she would have a constant supply of water in there if she was to cast an Undetectable Extension charm onto it, but it would be no use. That was complex magic and certainly wouldn't work when she felt this tired.

She jumped when she turned around and saw a figure in one of the dormitory doorways. The glass fell from her hands and shattered when it hit the floor. Hermione groaned and fumbled about her person for her wand, only to realise that she'd left it in her dormitory.

"Why is it when I think somewhere will be empty, you're always there, Granger?" Even in her groggy state there was no mistaking the drawl.

"Not now Malfoy," she yawned. "Too early. I just need to," another yawn. "Get my wand," and another. "Fix the glass."

She started back across the room but Draco started to walk towards her, so she froze on the spot. He waved his wand, signalling that she needn't get hers.

"Reparo," he muttered at the broken shards of glass, which immediately fused back together.

"Thanks," Hermione said, moving to fill it up again.

Draco's eyebrow shot up. "You're thanking me? Merlin, you must be tired."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why are you up?"

"Well you see, some idiot out here kept switching the tap on and off and now I need to piss," he said.

"Charming."

"I try," Draco smirked. "Not really, I'm just this charming naturally."

"I won't stand for your arrogance when we're working together, Malfoy," Hermione said, her brain finally waking up slightly.

Draco shuddered. "Don't remind me of that. It's painful enough as it is. And I'll do as I bloody well please. You're not the boss of me."

"If it bothers you so much why didn't you say anything to Dumbledore?" she put the glass on the counter and folded her arms.

"Do you honestly think if I complained then anything will get changed?"

"I guess not," Hermione conceded. "Just don't ruin my chances by being a complete tool."

"Would I, Granger?" he smirked.

"I'm not even going to respond to that," she said. Her nose wrinkled when she took a step forwards and stood in a wet patch on the floor, where the water had been spilled.

"Ah but you see, you saying that is a response in itself." She didn't really hear Draco's comeback, for her eyes were still in the process of working their way back up to meet his unwelcoming gaze.

They had started at the wet floor, and moved up to Draco's torso, which Hermione had only just realised was visible as his shirt was undone, and then momentarily stopped altogether before ever so slowly working their way up from his abs to his chest and to his shoulders. She had to admit that what she saw was a pleasant surprise. Draco had always seemed rather weedy and skinny to her, but now she knew better, and that he was lean, yes, but there was definite muscle definition beneath his pale skin.

Draco's face wasn't so attractive when her eyes finally got there, still taking their time despite Hermione internally willing herself to hurry up. He was frowning, his hair falling in front of cold eyes; his jaw was clenched and his lip was curled.

"What the hell are you doing?" he snapped.

Hermione started, and suddenly she realised what she had just done. "Shit, er Malfoy I didn't mean to-."

Draco hesitated. Granger must be ruffled if she was cussing. Well, good.

"Don't ever do that again, do you hear?" he spat. "I don't want someone like _you_ checking me out like that. It's disgusting."

Then suddenly Hermione regained her composure. Sort of. "'Someone like me? Oh I'm sorry, forgive me – a humble Muggleborn – for accidentally gazing upon the wondrous spectacle of Draco Malfoy," she said sarcastically. "Don't flatter yourself. I've seen better."

With that, she took her glass of water and flounced back across the room to her dorm, not giving him a backwards glance before shutting him out. It would have been satisfying to see his expression but she was blushing too much, and was paranoid that he might see.

She hated herself. Not because she had looked at him like that; because she was forced to face the fact that she lied, and that she actually _hadn't _seen better.

Outside, Draco stood rooted to the spot, staring after her with his jaw hanging open and his eyes blazing. How dare she! Was she seriously insinuating to him that Weasley had a better body than him? Draco could only hope that she had been talking about Krum.

He suddenly remembered whom he was referring to. This was Granger. He shouldn't care what she thought of him, and he didn't, but his ego was a different matter. He should feel violated that a Mudbl… _Muggleborn _had looked at him like that. So why didn't he?

It took him a moment of standing doing nothing in the middle of the room before he remembered he needed to use the bathroom – pretty urgently now – so he accessed the hidden room behind the bookshelf. Once in there he recalled the conversation just now, and his stomach churned when the harsh reality hit him.

He wasn't disgusted at her for looking at him, even though he should be. If anything he was more disgusted at himself for not being disgusted at her. He wasn't overly thrilled about the fact that Granger had been checking him out, but it wasn't completely abhorrent to him either… his eyes may or may not have drifted to her arse as she walked off. By no means was it intentional, but after several years of seeing Granger clad in ill-fitting skirts and jeans, it was only natural for Draco to be taken by surprise at her skimpy – by Granger's standards anyway – nightwear of a pair of cotton shorts and a racer-back vest top…

_Shit._

* * *

A few hours later when Hermione finally felt it an appropriate time to get up – she never did get back to sleep – she spent a pleasant morning with Harry, Ron, Padma and Ernie in the common room playing Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess (although she preferred to sit out and read a book). At noon, they all grabbed something to eat from the kitchenette before traipsing down to the Great Hall again, where most of the others had eaten lunch.

"Alright Granger?" Draco 'accidentally' bumped into her as he passed them. "Try not to mentally undress me," he drawled and winked at her before sauntering off ahead of them. Well, apparently he wasn't feeling very remorseful about his bigoted comment earlier, not that that was at all surprising.

Hermione instantly felt her cheeks warm nonetheless. _Bugger, _she thought. She had so far been doing a good job of convincing herself that the events of this morning had all been a dream.

"What's he on about?" Ron demanded, his ears matching the colour of Hermione's face. The others were also looking at her curiously. Harry was frowning, Padma had an eyebrow arched in suspicion and Ernie was just blinking rapidly at her.

She waved a hand of dismissal. "You know what Malfoy's like," she said, feigning indifference. "He's just trying to get a rise out of me. Merlin knows neither of us are exactly happy about being paired up."

"Yeah but usually he just insults you or something," Ron said. "Why would he say something like that all of a sudden?"

"Yeah Mione. That comment was pretty uncharacteristic of Malfoy. Has he been bothering you and you're just not telling us?" Harry asked.

"Who bloody knows what his game is," sighed Hermione. She was becoming a little flustered now. "But I think the most important thing to be worrying about is this first test, don't you?"

The others reluctantly stepped down from their interrogation and mumbled in agreement as they entered the Great Hall, where Dumbledore was waiting for them, along with Professor McGonagall, and where he jumped right into his explanation that prior to the first stage, there would be a short test to determine once and for all that the chosen pairings were the correct decision.

Hermione eagerly awaited instruction. It was time that Hogwarts had a fresh start, so she firmly trusted Dumbledore's judgement (even after she was paired with Malfoy). He could make them all dance like chimpanzees around Hogsmeade for all she cared. If it meant that she'd become Head Girl, and possibly help bring positive changes to the school, she wouldn't question anything.

Dumbledore then went on to conjure a set of objects with his wand and explained what this 'trial' would be. Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she realised what the objects were.

"What?" she exclaimed, biting hard on her lip afterwards from embarrassment of losing her cool. So much for her inner monologue about not questioning anything…

"Is this a joke?" Pansy spat. "You're going to attach me and Weasel together with magical handcuffs?"

McGonagall looked at her sternly. "Miss Parkinson, all of you were warned on the first day that these tests would seem unconventional and possibly absurd at first, but they all have a point to them to ensure a strong bond between you, and to allow us to observe how you may handle the positions; ultimately allowing us to make the right decision at the end."

Pansy's lip curled. "And what's the point of this one then?"

"The Heads will be working within close proximity; this trial stage is a more advanced test of how you communicate. It is imperative that the pairings all have the right chemistry between them in order for this to be a fair and successful system."

"So after this trial you'll let us go?" Ron asked, looking equally put out.

"Not necessarily Mr Weasley," McGonagall sighed and adjusted her glasses. "All I shall say for the time being is that it would do you all good to get used to working with your partner with the handcuffs on. I'd also like to point out that only I will be able to unlock them, so there ought to be no point in attempting to do it yourselves."

One by one the pairs stepped forwards and reluctantly allowed McGonagall to attach them to one another. They were told to remain in the Hall for the next half an hour so they could be 'observed'. Following this, they would remain attached together to do the first test and then they would be free.

Part of Hermione wondered exactly how much she wanted to be Head Girl after all once her left wrist was locked to Malfoy's right via an unspoken spell. A whole year of working closely with _him_? Could they handle that? She certainly didn't feel optimistic about it, but she believed in her abilities to keep him in line. Merlin knows neither of them was likely to take any crap from the other.

When McGonagall walked on to attach a very willing Ernie and Padma together, Draco moved to fold his arms, which consequently pulled Hermione's left arm with him. He sighed and dropped his (and her) arms again.

"Bloody hell, this is going to be a pain in my arse," he muttered.

"The feeling is entirely mutual," Hermione replied.

He grunted, and at the same time they pivoted on their heels away from each other and started walking to opposite sides of the Hall. They never did get very far, as the unyielding chain in between them caused them both to be pulled back from the sheer force that was being put onto their shoulders.

This happened at quite a speed, and their heads collided forcefully. They groaned and lifted their free hands to their injury.

"That was your fault." They both whined.

"No it wasn't," they spat at the other.

"Yes it was!" they shouted.

Draco growled, whipped out his wand and unsteadily cast a silencing charm on Hermione. Bloody trust McGonagall to make sure his strongest hand was compromised, unlike Hermione's.

"Stop doing that, Granger."

He smirked when he saw her expression fall when she huffed and started to speak but no sound came out. She brought up her right hand to him and wagged a finger in his face, silently berating him. She was frowning and her mouth was moving at incredible speed, but without sound it was quite amusing for him.

"What was that, Granger?" he asked, bending his head lower, as if trying to hear her. "You think my body is the best you've ever seen?"

He flinched when he felt her hand make contact with the side of his head.

"If you want me to remove the spell then that was the wrong way to go about it."

She rolled her eyes and started chewing on her lip, supposedly to stop herself from speaking.

"That's better," Draco said, but he still didn't remove it. A silent Granger was like a dream come true.

Hermione stamped her foot; the sound echoed around the room, attracting McGonagall's attention.

"Mr Malfoy, you are to remove that spell immediately," she said sternly.

Draco wanted to argue but he knew if he didn't co-operate then the old bag would remove the spell herself. Why were all Gryffindors such killjoys?

He sighed and removed the spell.

"What did you do that for?" Hermione demanded.

"To make you stop saying the same thing as I did," he shrugged.

"And that was the best way to go about it?" she threw her arms up in the air; causing one of Draco's to go with it. He wrenched his arm back down to make her do the same.

"Ow! Merlin, stop that," he spat.

Hermione's eyes were flaring. "If you've just ruined our chances-."

"What?" he frowned. "Granger get your brain into gear, will you?" he shook his head condescendingly. "This is the trial; not the actual test. The worst thing that could happen after that is that we don't get paired together after all, and I'm sure you agree that that's a blessing in disguise."

Hermione thought about this for a moment. "You're right. I suppose I should be thanking you, really."

Draco smirked. "Then why don't you-?"

"But I won't," she said with a little smirk. "Let's go and sit down," she started walking to the right side of the Hall, where a row of tables and benches was set up. Various plates of food were still laid out from lunch.

"Oh no you don't," Draco said, holding still so Hermione was forced to stop in her tracks again. "We're going over to this side," he turned and started to walk.

"Why?" Hermione tried to copy his technique by standing still but Draco was heavier and stronger, and so she was forced to walk along lest her shoulder become dislocated.

"This is the Slytherin side," he said, unceremoniously pulling her along by his long strides.

Hermione wanted to protest, but she noticed that Pansy and Ron were also on this side of the Hall, where tables of food were also set up. Ron was looking yearningly over to the Gryffindor side where Harry and Daphne were stood and apparently making awkward small talk.

_How in Godric's name was Ron unable to overpower Parkinson? _She thought.

Unfortunately for her, Draco swerved at the last second and walked to the far-end of the table - away from Ron and Pansy. Hermione looked over her shoulder as she walked, and briefly made eye contact with her friend. He rolled his eyes as this happened. She smiled at him and did the same; neither of them were having fun in this little trial.

Draco waited for Hermione to stand next to him before he moved to sit down. This was a tricky task, with both of them having to move in unison. They managed this relatively easily, and Hermione started to think that the rest of this half an hour would pass quickly. As long as they remained sitting, there was little chance of her arm almost being tugged out of its socket again.

Neither of them spoke for a while once they'd been seated, but Draco broke the silence after a minute or two.

"Granger, butter me a slice of toast, would you?"

She turned her head and frowned at the strange request. "What? No!"

"I haven't eaten anything today," he replied, as if that was enough justification.

She rolled her eyes. "Well that's your own fault. Dumbledore told us to eat something before this started, and now you know why."

"Well I wasn't hungry before," Draco said.

"Do it yourself, then," Hermione huffed. "I may be more inclined to help you if you hadn't cast _Silencio_ on me just now."

Draco scoffed. "Come now, Granger, we both know you'd refuse regardless if I cast that spell on you or not."

"Am I that predictable?" she asked.

"No, but if this was the other way around I'd sooner watch you struggle with amusement than help you."

"Your honesty is quite admirable, Malfoy," Hermione said sarcastically.

"So…" he said, flicking his gaze between the rack of toast and the plate of butter.

"As if I'm going to help you after what you just said!" Hermione snorted.

"But I've only got my left hand free," he said, jangling the chain between the cuffs. "I'm right-handed."

"I'm sure the great Draco Malfoy could manage," Hermione smirked.

That made him shut up. His jaw and eyes were set in a hard determination to wipe the smirk off her face. Hermione sat back in her seat, watching with interest and amusement. He successfully dragged the butter towards him and picked a piece of toast off the rack, but by the time it came to actually buttering it, he started to struggle.

His left hand was shaking, and every time he tried to spread the knife across the toast it would slip around the plate, so only a tiny smear of butter would stay on it. After some time he used his right hand to hold the toast steady while he attempted to butter it with his left, but Hermione would conveniently need to yawn as he did this, using her left hand to cover her mouth and thus pulling Draco's right hand off the toast.

"Stop that, Granger," he said in a low voice, obviously losing his patience.

Ron laughed to himself as he witnessed this whole thing across the room. He tapped Harry on the shoulder when Daphne pulled him across the room to him and Pansy. Both of the girls were stood as far as away from their partners as possible, and were gossiping between themselves, leaving Harry and Ron to stand with their cuffed arms out at a right angle to create more distance, and looking like lop-sided scarecrows as a result.

"Hermione's got Malfoy worked up," he said proudly as she looked over at them and grinned mischievously as Malfoy used his wand to levitate a piece of toast.

"Good on her," Harry said. "He deserves it; I saw him cast a silencing charm on her a couple of minutes ago."

There was a pause. "What d'ya reckon he was on about earlier?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea, but it's not like Hermione to hide stuff from us, especially when it involves Malfoy."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "I can't believe that she suggested I see other people."

Harry blinked. "How come that's bothering you all of a sudden? You seemed fine the night you talked about it."

"Yeah because it made sense, but now… I dunno, Malfoy's comment earlier has kinda freaked me out a bit."

"What, you don't think that she-?"

Ron's eyes widened. "Oh bloody hell, no. No, she never said anything about _her_ seeing other people. But now that you mention it… oh blimey Harry why did you say that?"

"Ron calm down; you're overreacting. Think about what you're saying: Hermione and Malfoy… there's no way."

"Still," Ron said. "You as good as said it yourself that what Malfoy said was, well, not Malfoy. And we were put into these pairs based on 'chemistry' and I-."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did he say anything? "Look mate, don't worry about it. We both know the chemistry thing was a load of crap. I mean, look who we're stuck with," he whispered. "Let's talk about something else, yeah?"

"Fine," Ron sighed, although his expression suggested he still wasn't done discussing Malfoy. "What's it like being attached to Greengrass?"

Now it was Harry's turn to sigh. "It could be worse I suppose," he smirked and glanced momentarily at Pansy.

"Piss off," Ron scowled. "She hasn't actually been that bad; we've just ignored each other so far."

"Well good luck when you actually have to work with her," Harry said. "But Daphne isn't that bad. She's a bit frosty but what Slytherin isn't?"

"What was that, Potter?" Daphne turned her head in their direction.

"Er, nothing," Harry lied.

Daphne rolled her eyes and resumed her conversation with Pansy.

"How Dumbledore and Snape reckon I've got chemistry with her is a bloody mystery to me," Ron said, looking the dark-haired witch up and down surreptitiously.

"And what, you think Daphne and I are a match made I heaven?" Harry said dryly.

Ron chuckled. "Fair point. Merlin, I can't wait 'til Ginny finds out who you've been paired with and why."

"I'd like to think that what she doesn't know can't hurt her," Harry paused. "Then again, I dunno if that'd be a good idea; Ginny is scarily perceptive sometimes."

Ron let out a long breath. "You aren't wrong. But please let me be there when she finds out."

Harry grunted his response, looking in the opposite direction to his friend. He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

Hermione had given up on watching Draco suffer. It was amusing at first but the more flustered he became, the more feeble his attempt at buttering the toast became, which in turn made him more annoyed.

She remembered that they had a real test to complete after this – provided they remained paired up, of course – so in the interest of wanting to do well, she sighed and took hold of the toast Draco had been levitating and leaned across him slightly to put it on the plate, gripping the crust with her thumb and index finger.

"It shouldn't move around now," she mumbled.

Draco scrutinised her for a moment with a frown on his face, and silently buttered the toast with his left hand. This time, he succeeded, but neither of them said anything when he put the knife down and took a bite at last. In fact, neither of them really looked at each other the whole time he was eating.

* * *

McGonagall and Dumbledore stood in the centre of the Hall, observing everyone.

"This system is proving to be either completely barking mad or completely genius so far, Albus," the witch said quietly, observing the blond Slytherin and bushy-haired girl with interest.

Dumbledore chuckled and followed her gaze. "Yes, that pairing in particular was rather surprising. I daresay that neither of them fully grasp the demonstration of teamwork and compassion they have just exhibited, especially after the _'Silencio'_ incident that occurred not ten minutes before."

"Yes, I'm sure that if we were to ask them how they feel this has gone, they'll be adamant that it was unbearable."

"Well we'll just see," Dumbledore said. "It will be interesting to see what happens in the real test."

_To be continued…_


	5. The Potion

**A/N: **I'm sorry if you got the notification twice, but I spotted typos that needed changing and the 'replace chaper' function wouldn't work so I had to delete and add it again *sigh*

Chapter Glossary: Crup - a small terrier-like wizarding dog with a forked tail.

Shout out to _Windwinder, daniiibabiii, Katherine Janise, Meow-I-am-a-cat_ and _Pani Drwzi _for your continued support. It's lovely to read your reviews. Thank you to everyone who's put this story on alert and reviewed too :)

Enjoy!

* * *

**5**

**:. The Potion .: **

The trial had been a pretty pointless exercise, as in the end only one pair was switched; Hannah was now with Terry, which meant that Susan was with Anthony. The outcome was met with groans of disappointment from the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Suffice it to say, everyone – with the possible exception of Lavender and Blaise – felt as if they had been given false hope of potentially getting rid of their current partners.

Hermione was just utterly baffled that Draco hadn't triggered a switch for them by silencing her earlier on. Maybe Ron was right, and Dumbledore actually _had_ lost his marbles. Speaking of 'silencing', she realised that Draco hadn't said a word to her since she had helped him, and she couldn't help but be curious. The last time he had given her the cold shoulder was the night in the Astonomy Tower.

She hadn't noticed that she had been staring up at Draco as this thought crossed her mind until she caught a flash of red hair in her peripheral vision. Ron was looking at her with a strange expression on his face.

'What?' she mouthed to him.

He opened his mouth but ended up just shaking his head in response.

Everyone had been led to the Potions classroom – still handcuffed together – and unceremoniously squashed into one half of the room, as there were cauldrons of something brewing along the far-right side that everyone was specifically told not to approach.

Hermione already knew what the task was going to be even before Snape gave them their instructions.

"The instructions to make a Confusing Concoction is on the board," Snape drawled in his monotone voice as he paced the classroom, where each pair was stood behind a cauldron. Words appeared on the blackboard at the front as he spoke.

"It is a simple potion; one you may be familiar with from your third year syllabus. Your task is to brew it... to perfection. The handcuffs obviously ensure that you work together and communicate, and the quality of the potion at the end will determine how well you managed to do this."

Hermione raised her free arm. She was pretty convinced that Snape rolled his eyes when he saw her but she daren't comment.

"Well well, Miss Granger, it doesn't surprise me that even in the summer holidays you have an incessant need to brown-nose your way through every little thing."

Hermione flushed, and she was pretty sure Draco sniggered beside her. Whatever the noise was, he masked it with a cough.

"What is it?" Snape asked without enthusiasm.

"Sir, how exactly is this competition going to work? Are we going to be scored based on our performance, or is it a case of," she gulped. "Elimination if we do badly?"

"If we were to score you, Miss Granger, to what criteria would we do it?"

"So we'll be eliminated then?"

"It's good to see that you're as sharp as ever," Snape drawled. "The Heads must be all-rounders in various personal qualities, so it is highly unlikely that you will be chosen should your performance be abysmal on one task. That being said, the headmaster is keen to allow everyone to take part in every test – for future reference of next year's selection."

"Therefore," he continued. "At each test one member of staff will take notes of everyone's performances, and at the end the notes will be compared to determine the 'winners' if you will; although one or two tasks will be scored through a head-to-head format if you would excuse the pun. Is that clear, Miss Granger?"

"Yes sir," Hermione said. She knew that was as good as an explanation she would get from Snape.

"Good. You have ninety minutes. Begin." He flounced over to his desk and tapped his wand to a large sheet of parchment. A table appeared on it. From where she stood Hermione could see that a list of the pairs was written down the first column, and what she presumed to be the test names ran across the top. In between were several blank boxes where the notes were to go.

"If you're quite finished being nosy, might we get on with it?" Draco asked.

Hermione turned her head to see several pairs bustling to the store cupboards to get ingredients.

"Okay, let's go and get-."

She started walking but was pulled back as Draco made no attempt to move again. He shook his head condescendingly. "Oh Granger, you do make life difficult for yourself."

"Meaning?" Hermione tried to cross her arms but couldn't because of the handcuffs.

"Get your arse back over here," Draco drawled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. He must have gotten over his earlier strop. She hazarded a guess that it had something to do with being a Potions task; knowing very well that it was perhaps Malfoy's best subject. She had always loathed this in him from the unspoken competition she always had with him in every class; but today it seemed like a blessing.

She returned to his side. He glanced at the board before _accio_-ing all of the ingredients. The commotion around the cupboard died down when people noticed ingredients randomly flying out; some jars hitting Ron and Harry in the head in the process as their partners stood at the sidelines gossiping again.

"Oi, watch it you great ferret!" Ron shouted.

"So sorry Weasel," Draco smirked. "I'm not a leftie so my control is a little compromised."

"Patronising git," Ron muttered before continuing his search.

"Malfoy I'm pretty sure this is against the rules," Hermione whispered as she saw Snape pull a face and tap his wand in a box on the drawn-up table that she was pretty was in her and Draco's row.

"Pfft. What rules? All he said was to make the bloody potion," Draco said.

"It's cheating."

"It's called using my initiative," he replied, curling his lip. "Oi Mack, get your hands off," he cast another summoning charm to retrieve the moonstone Ernie had intercepted.

Hermione backed down. She convinced herself it was because she knew Malfoy was stubborn, so he was going to continue regardless of what she said, but she had to admit to herself that his idea was very good, considering they were both compromised via the handcuffs.

"It might be a good idea to summon some bubotuber pus," she said. "It's not on the board but it will stop the potion boiling over if we leave it unattended for too long, which is a real possibility given our…restraints."

Draco didn't look at her but he smirked. "Already on it Granger," he drawled. Hermione took this time to look at the ingredients that were headed their way. Sure enough, a small jar of snot-coloured gloop was amongst them. Hermione bit her lip; she really needed to start giving Malfoy _some_ credit where potions were involved.

Once they had all of their ingredients laid out Hermione lit a fire beneath the cauldron with her wand. Draco immediately reached over her and began sorting through everything. She smacked his hand away.

"What are you doing? We need some kind of system!"

He arched an eyebrow. "What system? It's a simple potion. I could do it in my sleep."

"Now is not the time for your bloody arrogance," Hermione sighed. "It's easy, but that's what makes this so difficult."

"What?"

"Think about it," Hermione said. "It's so easy that we should have no problem making it perfect. If we screw this up then that's just going to tell Snape that we obviously can't work efficiently as a team."

Draco snorted and ran his hand through his hair. "Well I bloody never signed up to be on Team Brown-noser."

"Would you grow up? We don't want to work together; I get it, but we're stuck so I suggest you stop with your snarky comments. They aren't helping. And while we're on the subject I think it's your fault we were put together in the first place!"

"Excuse me?"

"Your bloody innuendos," she sneered.

He frowned before clarity passed his face and he started laughing. "Oh lighten up, I've already come up with the theory that we were just a default; Zabini said he and Brown really hit it off."

"Oh. Well that doesn't matter now," Hermione said. "Okay Malfoy, I went along with your _accio _short-cut so I think you should give me the same courtesy. I'm telling you we need a system."

Draco desperately wanted to wind her up even more but he looked down at her imploring brown eyes and sighed, admitting his defeat. He didn't know why, but some part of him felt like he needed to please her. That was the part of him he hated.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "But I hope you know that your tolerance for my 'arrogance' is exactly the same as my tolerance for your bossiness."

Hermione bristled but she didn't argue. "Understood," she said.

As she started to drone about the best way to make the potion with only one hand each, Draco zoned out and he started to scan the rest of the room. It seemed that he and Hermione were in the minority when it came to taking a tactical approach to the task. Considering it was about teamwork and communication there were quite a few pairs that seemed to neglect the purpose of it.

Mandy and Justin were stood staring at their table of ingredients as though they were unsure how to start, as were Anthony and Susan. Mack and Padma and Terry and Hannah on the other hand were already getting stuck in without first having to talk about it. Then again, there was no lingering animosity and tension between them as there was with Draco and Hermione, and so they incorporated the use of their joined hands with minimal hassle instead having to work around only using one hand each.

His eyes then drifted over to Blaise and the other Gryffindor girl. They obviously had no problem working closely with one another, and seemed to be more focused on flirting with each other than the potion. Draco's stomach churned at the sickening sight.

The sound of something falling to the floor thankfully diverted Draco's gaze, and he grinned when the discovered that the source of the noise had come from Potter and Daphne's bench.

The blonde girl groaned. "What the hell, Potter, you clumsy buffoon!"

"Sorry," Harry said, looking down at the crocodile heart he had just knocked off the bench.

"Eugh," Daphne wrinkled her nose up.

"You do realise that both of us will have to crouch down if you're expecting me to pick that up," Harry said, clocking her expression.

Daphne flashed a stern look at him, and Harry immediately looked away.

"Not necessarily," she said before taking out her wand and levitating the heart back onto the bench. "Now, no offence but in the interest of us doing well I think you should let me take care of this. I know how bloody awful you are at potions."

Harry's ego had obviously taken a bit of a denting, despite the truth behind her words. "But this is simple. I can handle it."

Daphne pursed her lips. "I'm not willing to take the risk." She ordered Harry to step back from the bench whilst she proceeded to attempt to make the potion single-handed… literally.

Draco smirked; he'd found himself in Daphne's bad books on many occasions before, so it was very amusing to see her berating Potter for once. Pansy was giggling too, and was making no attempt to focus on her own potion.

"Oi Parkinson, make yourself useful and get three fluxweed leaves out of that container, would you?" Ron called.

"I don't think I will, Weasley," Pansy sneered.

"What's the matter, is three too high a number for you?" Ron rolled his eyes.

"You've got some cheek you filthy-."

"Now now," Snape said coolly, drifting through the aisles to their bench. "Mr Weasley, I suggest you put your differences aside and focus on the task at hand. It would do you no good to insult Miss Parkinson's intelligence and ruin her chances in this competition as a result."

Ron's ears reddened. "What? But she's the one who bloody-."

"Language," Snape said warningly before walking back to his desk.

Pansy smirked. "So what was that you were saying about me, Weasley?"

Ron didn't respond and kept his gaze focused on the cauldron.

"What's the matter with you?"

Nothing.

"Weasley?" Pansy jangled the handcuffs.

"Look Parkinson would you just co-operate?" Ron sighed. "It's a long-shot but I, for one, actually want to be Head Boy."

"Even if you're stuck working with me for a year?" Pansy lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes," the response was blunt but something in his voice made the raven-haired girl co-operate, if only for just this once.

She swallowed her pride, knowing that Weasley was her ticket to becoming Head Girl just as much as she was his to become Head Boy.

"So how many leaves was it? Three?"

"What?" Ron frowned. "Oh er, yeah… thanks."

"Malfoy?"

Draco was still absently frowning towards Parkinson and Weasley, so Hermione's voice didn't quite register. She tried again.

"Malfoy?" she jangled the cuffs, but he still didn't snap out of it.

Hermione rolled her eyes and tugged her left hand away, causing his right one to surge sideways and knock against it.

A jolt of warmth ran through Draco's hand and up his arm at the brief impact. He flinched. It felt similar to a static shock: similar but not the same. Bloody handcuffs…

"What Granger?"

"Malfoy what did I just say?" Hermione asked, drumming her fingernails against the wooden bench.

"You said my name. Twice. And then you almost dislocated my wrist," Draco responded with a glare.

"Not that!" Hermione said. "Godric, you weren't listening to a word of my system, were you?"

"Er," Draco scrunched his face up. "Something about you being in charge of cutting because you have the good hand?"

Hermione started and blinked at him a couple of times. Merlin she really did need to start giving him more credit.

"Y-yes," she said with a frown. "So first we need to boil…"

Draco sighed. "Yes, I _can_ read you know."

"Oh," Hermione blushed. " I was just-."

"Being bossy. I know," Draco said with a smile. It had originally been intended to be a smirk, but something about the predictability of Hermione just made him change his mind at the last second. She was still the same person despite everything he, and on a larger scale people like Voldemort, had said and done against people like her, and she was just the same. There was something to be admired about her after all.

Hermione was taken aback at this second of kindness that Malfoy displayed. For a moment he smiled, and his entire face softened. It was strange, but no sooner had Hermione noticed this the usual stoic exterior took over again.

After ten minutes of arguing endlessly about the best way to slice the crocodile heart into equally sized pieces, Draco had to back down. He would have preferred to continue questioning Hermione's method, but he was always going to lose against her temper when she was also wielding a sharp knife in one hand. It was funny how someone so innocent could look so threatening, but then again Draco had learnt that looks could be deceiving the hard way back in third year when that oaf set that bloody overgrown chicken on him.

"Okay this next bit's going to be tricky," Hermione said. "We have to constantly keep the potion moving whilst adding the heart, fluxweed leaves and powdered dragon horn – in that order."

"Well you can chuck everything in and I'll keep stirring," Draco glanced at the blackboard. "Three counter-clockwise turns followed by one clockwise and repeat. Got it."

He began to stir and looked expectantly at Hermione to start adding ingredients.

"Er I need some help," she winced as though the words physically pained her.

Draco smirked. "What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip. "I need to crush the dragon horn with a mortar and pestle," she explained. "I have to do it just before I add it to the potion; the longer it's exposed to the air, the less potent it becomes."

"Oh," Draco said, understanding that she would need two hands for that task.

"I hope you're as good as you claim to be and are good at multi-tasking," she said with a small smile.

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "The best."

The way Hermione had helped him with the toast earlier on seemed to have influenced the way they were able to work together. The potion required a lot of concentration so after a while of clumsy manoeuvring the two of them found a rhythm that they could work with, and they continued making the potion in a surprisingly comfortable silence, which unbeknownst to them, raised quite a few eyebrows amongst some of their peers. Hermione almost forgot who she was working with on one or two occasions because of the silence, which emphasised the fact that Draco wasn't trying to make her life difficult by making snarky comments.

As much as she hated to admit it to herself, he actually was pretty good. With minimal effort, considering he was using his weak hand, Draco stirred the potion in the correct directions and reached across to hold containers of ingredients steady with his other hand so Hermione could scoop, crush, and take pinches of the correct amounts to add to the potion.

The noise levels throughout the rest of the room had dropped significantly too, and everyone – even Daphne and Harry – had seemed to find a system that worked for them. Hermione was quite fascinated by it all, but she couldn't afford to take her eyes off the potion.

The hush in the room and its acoustics allowed the sound of Draco's low humming to drift to Hermione's ears. She looked and saw that he was staring intently at the potion, but it wasn't out of stress or concentration. He seemed very relaxed, and Hermione was so caught up in the bizarre sight that she couldn't seem to look away – not that Draco was aware. There was no frown crinkling his forehead beneath his platinum fringe, nor in his eyes. His mouth was relaxed and opened a fraction since he had stopped humming; not a sneer or smirk to be seen. He looked younger, and like he didn't have a care in the world, which Hermione found to be very ironic considering how Potions was known to be the most stressful subject.

"It's thickened up now, Granger, so you need to start adding the ginger root…" Draco's voice trailed off when he saw Hermione looking at him curiously. "Granger I'm not some caged animal you can just gawp at you know? And you can't use the excuse of being tired this time," he cocked an eyebrow and she immediately looked away.

_Merlin, she's a strange one, _he thought.

"Sorry – I was away with the pixies," she said. "Okay, ginger root. Could you -?"

"Sure," Draco said, not taking his eyes off the potion as he reached his right arm across so Hermione could grasp the jar properly.

"Thanks," she replied as she added three spoonfuls into the blue liquid. Apparently the consuming task also made them momentarily forget the snarky manner in which they were usually accustomed to communicating.

"You have two minutes remaining," Snape's booming voice jolted everyone from their concentration. "I expect a labelled vial of your Confusing Concoctions on my desk when the time is up."

"Just in time," Hermione said as a light-blue vapour began rising from their cauldron.

"Bloody hell, you mean we actually managed to do this?" Draco blinked, his eyes finally refocusing. "I was expecting some disaster where our cauldron would melt or what-have-you."

"What's it like being on Team Brown-noser now?" Hermione teased.

"I'm still not happy about it," Draco scoffed.

"But…" Hermione offered expectantly and nudged his shoulder with hers.

"No buts," he drawled, nonchalantly running a hand through his hair and grabbing a glass vial.

And just like that he was putting up his defences again. Hermione frowned.

"Arse," she said.

"No quite the 'but' I was referring to Granger," Draco smirked. "But at least you know your synonyms."

"You're bloody impossible," she muttered as she filled the vial as he held it steady.

"So I've been told," he said, and with that he began to strut off towards the desk, dragging Hermione along with him.

"I bloody wish you'd tell me when you're planning to walk off like this," she hissed.

"And where's the fun in that?" Draco replied.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She managed to get a sneaky glance at other people's potions as she and Draco walked through the room. Most of them, surprisingly enough, looked pretty accurate. Harry's was the right colour but it was nowhere near as thick as it needed to be (no doubt Daphne would blame him for not stirring enough); Ron's was frothing slightly but the correct consistency and Padma and Ernie's looked near perfect, as did Hannah and Terry's.

On the flip side, Mandy and Justin had clearly had complications with keeping up the momentum of the stirring, as their potion looked lumpy. Lavender and Blaise seemed to have tried to be smart-arses by making a poorly executed Befuddlement Draught instead of a Confusing Concoction, and Susan and Anthony had just run out of time by the look of it.

Hermione was surprised that there were no majorly bad results; maybe this chemistry malarkey wasn't so stupid after all. Then again, it was still early days, and cracks in partnerships were bound to show themselves sooner or later.

"Our potion, Professor," Draco drawled self-righteously, before dramatically presenting the labelled vial to Snape.

"Oh sure and _I'm_ the brown-noser," Hermione muttered quietly.

"You're just pissed because one teacher doesn't put you on a little pedestal," he retorted in a whisper.

"Not true!"

"Of _course _it isn't."

"If you two are quite finished," Snape's black eyes bored into them. "You may leave. Professor McGonagall is waiting in the Great Hall so she can remove the handcuffs."

Draco and Hermione nodded and began to walk off when Hermione stopped and pivoted at the last second.

"Sir, if at all possible, would you be able to tell us if our potion is any good?"

Snape merely arched an eyebrow in response.

"Well," Hermione continued. "I just thought, since that doesn't require you to tell us about your thoughts about how well we work together – just how good the potion is."

"Miss Granger, you are fully aware that I am judging your teamwork skills on the standard of your potions as well as my own observations," Snape drawled. "You'd do well to let Mr Malfoy do any digging for information from now on; he is the Slytherin after all, and so would be able to do it in a way that isn't so blatant and transparent."

Hermione flushed. Draco smirked widely.

"C'mon Granger," he said, pulling her away.

Once they had left the classroom he started to laugh to himself.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Of course you don't care that Snape likes me more than you," his voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"I don't."

"Then what was that all about?" Draco asked. "You and I both know very well that the potion was perfect."

"You know what Malfoy, I'm not even going to bother arguing with you about this. You're just going to twist around whatever I say, anyway."

"But you want to." It wasn't a question but Hermione felt compelled to answer.

"Oh Godric am I really that transparent?"

"Yes."

"All right no need to sugar-coat it or anything," Hermione adopted his earlier sarcastic tone.

"Now why would I do that? It's not like we're friends or anything," Draco scoffed as they entered the Hall.

"Oh," Hermione said. "I suppose so."

Merlin, that whole task and being handcuffed to Malfoy must have had addled her brain if Hermione thought a couple of hours of being borderline civil to each other meant that some kind of friendship was forming. That was something not worth being optimistic over. It wasn't like Hermione fancied the idea of being friends with him but it would definitely make her life easier if they were, or at least, the insults and comments would die down a little. Not to mention they'd stand more of a chance of doing well for the remainder of the competition.

"Ah Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall greeted them. "First to finish I see. Dare I ask how this experience was for you?"

"Could have been worse," Hermione said honestly.

"I concur," Draco admitted reluctantly.

The older witch seemed pleasantly surprised but she didn't comment. "Well then, allow me to remove the spell on the handcuffs."

Hermione and Draco took a step forwards and simultaneously lifted their linked wrists. McGonagall muttered a complex incantation and waved her wand. Not long after, the handcuffs started dissolving before vanishing altogether in a puff of smoke.

Neither of them moved afterwards, from being so used to not really being able to use their other hands. Then Hermione stretched without really thinking and was almost shocked when she was able to lift and extend her left arm fully. It felt rather strange not being attached to Draco anymore; her left side felt quite empty even though he was still stood beside her.

Draco felt quite lonely all of a sudden. He was bloody thrilled to be short of Granger's infuriating presence but there was a part of him that enjoyed the company of someone who wasn't Zabini or Parkinson or Greengrass. He internally shrugged; there would be plenty of opportunities to annoy Granger in the future.

"So can we go now?" he asked, putting his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans.

"Yes, you may go," McGonagall nodded. "Tomorrow will be a free day for everyone but after that you will be required to stay and sleep within the school grounds and Hogsmeade to await notice of the next test. It has already been planned but the timing of it is still being discussed."

"Okay. Thank you, Professor," Hermione said before turning and heading out of the room. Draco followed her. He was thrilled that they finished first; it meant he could claim one of the armchairs.

Hermione, fully aware that Draco was standing just behind her, paused before saying the password he had come up with.

"What's the matter Granger? Has my amazing password slipped your mind?"

"Oh so it _was_ you!" Hermione said. "When did you come up with that, Malfoy?" she asked.

"Er, dunno," Draco shrugged. "The third?"

"Great," Hermione sighed; thank Merlin it was the fifth today. She cleared her throat and said "Unity" to the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Making a new password."

"Oh crap," Draco sighed at his slip-up. "And _that's_ the best you could come up with?" he arched a blond brow.

"Just a reminder of why we're all here. You know, instead of coming up with things that promote house pride," Hermione mimicked his expression.

"Hey at least my password didn't slate other houses like Mack's did."

Hermione sighed and folded her arms. "Okay, his name is _Ernie_, Malfoy!"

"So you're just going to ignore the fact that he slated my house?" Draco scoffed. "Salazar's pants, if my password was 'Hufflepuff's stink' you would have lectured me endlessly."

"No I wouldn't."

Draco sighed and met Hermione's gaze seriously. "Don't pretend Granger, you know that you would."

Hermione regarded him for a moment with a questioning – and slightly sheepish – glance. She opened the door and immediately strolled over to the armchair closest to the fire, on which her book still lay open as her placeholder.

Draco followed her silently and sank down into the armchair opposite hers, letting out a sigh of contentment as he did so.

"What are you doing?" he asked when he saw that Hermione was scribbling something on a piece of parchment.

"Writing down the password. We need to find some way of telling each other when it's been changed to prevent the whole not being able to get in business."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"I thought 'rolling your eyes is a very bad habit'?" Hermione asked, referring to something Draco told Ernie on the first day.

Draco looked at her steadily. "What, you can have double standards and I can't?"

Hermione chewed her lip. He did have a point. She walked over to the door and slipped the parchment underneath before returning to her chair. She picked up her book but couldn't really concentrate, as she was aware of the sulky brooding expression of Draco over the top of the pages.

"Look Malfoy, I'm sorry, okay?" she said. "I suppose I was being a little prejudiced, and it was wrong of me."

He scoffed. "Don't apologise Granger, we both know you don't mean it and you're just saying it so I'll co-operate in the next test."

"Must you always be so damn pessimistic?" Hermione asked. "I'm really trying here -."

"And nobody bloody asked you to, Granger!" Draco snapped. He got up and walked towards his dormitory, sacrificing the comfort of his chair to get away from her.

He slammed the door when he entered, only to be welcomed by a piece of parchment that was lying on his bed. There was one on Zabini's bed too. Forgetting that he was supposed to be pissed off at Granger, Draco wandered over to investigate.

He frowned upon reading what was written on it, but then he smirked. Suddenly he was very aware that sitting on his bed wasn't nearly as comfy as the armchairs, and upon hearing voices approaching he swallowed the little pride he had left after today and sauntered out of the room and back to his chair, before throwing himself onto it.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at how possessive he was over it. Then again, they were damn comfortable. It amazed her how he could sit in it in such a manner and still be graceful about it. Git.

"So did slamming that door get your little tantrum out of your system?" she enquired.

She didn't receive a response as Draco's blond head was bent over as he read a piece of parchment.

"What's-?" Hermione began but his laughter cut her off.

"You used to have a pet hamster called Tiddles?" Draco looked up and arched an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with humour.

Hermione flushed. "How the hell did you know that? And so what, I was five!"

"Yes, but _Tiddles_?" He scoffed.

"He used to wee all the time!" Hermione shot back before breaking down into a fit of the giggles when she realised how absurd this argument was.

"Malfoy where did you-?"

"Ay-up!" Ernie grinned as he entered the common room with Padma, Harry, Daphne, Ron and Pansy. "Sweet idea with writing down the password. Was that you, Mione?"

"Mm-hmm," Hermione responded, still confused at where Draco got the parchment.

"Yes that seems much more logical than just having a free-for-all and letting everyone find out on their own," Padma said. "It brings in some element of teamwork amongst the sixteen of us, at least. Looks like we may have some real competition here, babe," she nudged Ernie.

"I don't know about that," Hermione said. "Malfoy wasn't keen on that idea, or the password I came up with."

"Yeah but it looks like you managed to persuade him to go along with you," Padma said. "Communication and all that."

Hermione hesitated. She hadn't really thought of it like that before.

"Yes, well it wasn't so much Granger persuading me as it was her not giving me any bloody option in it," Draco said from his chair without looking at them.

Everyone laughed and Draco scowled and turned his attention back to his mysterious list. Hermione rose from her chair, leaving her book in her place again and walked over to everyone at the door. She tried to sneak a peek at the parchment on her way but Draco apparently had eyes on top of his head, and angled it away from her as she passed.

"Where's everyone else?" Hermione asked.

"Getting un-handcuffed," Harry said. "Although Lavender and Blaise seemed to be kicking up a fuss about wanting to keep them on."

"Figures," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yup, that Zabini's got some weird taste alright," Daphne commented before disappearing into her dorm.

"Hey!" Ron said, scratching his head.

"What, you mean you seriously had a thing for her?" Pansy asked with a grimace.

Ron's eyes momentarily rested on Hermione before he answered. "Er, not really, but at the start I thought she was alright."

"My my, aren't you a charmer," Pansy said dryly before wandering off towards her dorm too. Just as she disappeared, Daphne walked out. She was holding a piece of parchment.

"Hey Potter, why do I have a list of random crap about you?"

"What?" Harry frowned and walked over to read the list. "What the-?"

Pansy's cackling laugh echoed from the dormitory before she stuck her head out into the common room.

"Weasley, your middle name is _Bilius_?! That's bloody priceless."

Ron's ears reddened but before he could defend himself Daphne had run over to Pansy and the two girls started comparing lists on their partners and giggling manically. Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ernie and Padma merely blinked in disbelief at the sight before them. Two Slytherins being completely uninhibited in front of other people? This was one for the books.

There was a pause, then the five of them looked at each other before charging to their respective dormitories to retrieve their own lists at the same time, everyone colliding with at least one other person in the process. Hermione had an inkling that by the time the others showed up, this would turn into another inter-house war. The professors really did come up with barking mad ways of testing their abilities to work with one another harmoniously.

With this thought in mind, Hermione told herself that when she read her list about Draco, she wouldn't use it as a means to get one up on him. But that all went to hell when she scanned the list.

She strode confidently and purposefully across the common room back to her armchair.

"Alright Granger?" he greeted her without looking up from the parchment. "Or should I say, Hermy-o-wee?" And with that he burst out laughing.

Hermione's cocky façade vanished and she flushed. "Oh Godric's pants! Shut up Malfoy. No need to mock the fact that I was incapable of pronouncing my own name when I was two!"

"Actually I can think of much need. Namely, my own amusement," he drawled. "You can relax now; that and the Tiddles thing seem to be the only facts on here that aren't completely boring."

"Hey!"

Draco just smirked as he tossed the parchment aside, until he looked at Hermione and saw that she had a piece of parchment in her hands. He gulped.

"You can mock Tiddles all you want, but the pets in your family don't exactly have normal names either."

"They're more normal than Tiddles."

"Oh so 'Hercules' is a bog-standard run-of-the-mill name for a crup?" Hermione asked as she read the fourth fact down: '_When Draco was four, he accidentally turned the coat of his mother's pet crup, Hercules, bright pink.'_

"Ah but I didn't name him. It was your wild imagination that came up with Tiddles," Draco smirked. "And for your information, that is in fact a bog-standard name from my family's neck of the woods."

"Godric what different worlds we come from," Hermione commented as she started scanning the list properly.

"You can say that again," Draco replied. He too, focused back on the list in front of him, which consisted of random facts about Hermione, which was more than enough proof that they were completely different. And yet today in the task, they worked together so well. Draco couldn't fathom how, but what he did know was that this system was utterly mental.

_To be continued…_


	6. The Burrow

**A/N: **Okay first of all, I am SO sorry for the delay. I know it's only been a week but I feel like I haven't touched this story in ages! I've just had so many things to write and not enough time/ motivation to do it in. (It's one of those 'throw-my-laptop-across-the-room-or-stare-blankly-at-my-word-document' weeks.)

I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the delay. (The length is ironically part of the reason for the delay but there you go.) It's also a big Dramione chapter, and the next one is even bigger *le gasp*! :D

Okay, my lovelies, you have a choice! chapter 7 is about 8K long, and I don't want to upload it until chapter 8 is written. So, I can publish it in two halves, which will give you two updates in a week, or you can wait to have the whole thing, but it will be another week to wait. The choice is yours!

Sorry (again), I'm completely stressed right now. Wake me up with reviews? .. :)

* * *

**6**

**:. The Burrow .: **

Draco sauntered up the path leading to Hogsmeade with most of the other candidates. They had a free day today, and everyone practically leapt at the opportunity to go and visit their families. Frankly, he didn't understand it; it had only been a couple of days since their last day off, after all.

Hannah, Terry and Susan seemed to be the exception, as they continued down the lane to the Three Broomsticks instead of stopping at the apparition point with everyone else.

"So, finally going home are you?" Blaise cocked an eyebrow and looked at Draco.

He shrugged. "S'pose I have to at some point."

Blaise clapped him on the back. "I know your mum's being a bit off but she needs you."

Draco pushed him away and sighed. "Bloody hell Zabini, not you too. I thought you'd be the last person to bloody turn soft."

"Okay – ouch," Blaise said. "I'm your mate, I'm supposed to be concerned about you."

Draco scoffed. "You've been hanging around Mack and the other Hufflepuffs too much. Or maybe it's that weedy Gryffindor that's addled your brain."

Blaise looked like he wanted to say something else but wisely decided against it. He just shook his head and apparated away without another word.

Feeling unwanted sets of eyes burning holes into the back of his head, Draco turned to see Pansy and Daphne watching him curiously. There was no way he could afford to give them chance to get on his case like Zabini had, so Draco took a pace forwards, gripped his wand and pivoted on the spot, apparating away.

He ended up in his desired destination: in a little copse of trees on the other side of the village. The others had started to notice that he hadn't been going home when the opportunity presented itself, and had been questioning him endlessly about it. So now he had to keep up a façade by walking into the village just to apparate supposedly out of the village, only to walk all the way back to school again. It was bloody annoying but if it fooled the other Slytherins then that would make Draco's life easier.

It was a pleasant day despite there being a gathering of clouds in the sky: the air was warm without being too muggy, and the scattered trees provided small patches of shade along the trail back down to the school. Draco skulked through the long grass with his head bent and his hands thrust in his pockets. He was not particularly in the mood for any human interaction for a good few hours.

As if his luck couldn't get any worse, he heard footsteps and voices coming in his direction. Draco decided just to keep his head down and ignore whoever it was. It wasn't going to do him any favours if he hexed them into oblivion… although it was seriously tempting.

"… Oh bloody hell it's the ferret."

"Just ignore him…"

Draco groaned. Of course, it had to be the Dopey Duo. He bit the inside of his cheek and charged forwards, barging past Harry and Ron as he continued down the trail.

"Oi, watch it!" Ron shouted at him.

"That's what you get for calling me a ferret, Weasel."

"You call me a bloody weasel everyday!" Ron argued.

"Well that's your name isn't it, _Weasel_y? I haven't been a ferret in over two years," Draco drawled nonchalantly, turning to face the Gryffindors.

"Yeah, well you suited ferret-form much better than human. You were much quieter for one thing-."

"Not to mention that I was much better looking as a ferret than you are as a human."

Draco smirked as Ron's ears reddened instantly at that remark.

"Where are you going Malfoy?" Harry asked, his tone not as unfriendly as Ron's. "I saw you walking to the village earlier. Why are you going back the other way?"

Draco turned his attention to the other wizard. "Keeping tabs on me, are you Potter?" He paused, and then on an aptly placed yet completely separate topic, he said, "So I see the Twerp Trio is missing a member. Where's Granger?"

He arched an eyebrow when he saw Weasley flinch slightly in his peripheral vision. He wondered what had happened between him and Granger for a moment, but then he shook the thoughts away. Neither of them were of any concern to him.

Harry frowned. "She's visiting her parents and then meeting us later. Not that it's any of your business."

Having found Weasley's trigger, Draco nodded once to him before turning away from them again. "I wonder if she'll still be at the castle," he said aloud as he walked away.

Draco smirked when he heard the swish of grass moving as Ron took a pace forwards, ready to hex him, before Harry held him back. Hmm, maybe he didn't have to use magic to get revenge on people who pissed him off, after all.

"He's only saying that to get a rise out of you," Harry said to Ron when Draco's blond head disappeared from sight.

* * *

Hermione hastily squeezed some toothpaste from the tube, completely missing the brush to start with. She grimaced when a glob of paste fell onto the bare skin of her left foot.

"Oh bloody hell!" she cursed. Trust her to wake up insanely early when she could lie in and then oversleep the one day she needed to be somewhere in the morning.

She used her wand to clean her foot before manically brushing her teeth, using her free hand to attempt to flatten her bed-hair. Using a hairbrush only ever made it frizz out even more – it was like he hair was static or something – so this was always the best solution first thing in the morning.

When that was done Hermione dashed out of the bathroom to her dormitory and yanked on a pair of old jeans and a pink t-shirt along with some ballet flats and ran back across the common room, which was strewn with bits of parchment from the previous night.

She yanked the door open and kept running, only to collide with someone the moment she stepped out of the room.

"Ow, can this morning get any worse?" she groaned, rubbing her forehead. She opened her eyes and groaned again when she realised who she crashed into.

_Yes – yes it can get worse._

"Apparently it can, Granger," Draco sighed, turning his body sideways so he could get past Hermione and into the room.

She rolled her eyes. This was just like the handcuff thing all over again. Then the ringing in her head cleared and she frowned.

"Wait. Malfoy, I thought you went into Hogsmeade with the others."

"I did," he drawled. "And now I'm back."

"But aren't you going to go home – visit your family?" Hermione asked.

Draco met her gaze steadily for a moment and shook his head. He turned away and walked deeper into the room towards his dormitory without another word.

"Malfoy-?"

He lifted his wand over his shoulder and shut the door in Hermione's face.

"Charming," she sighed.

* * *

"Oh bloody hell George, don't talk about this in front of Mione."

"She's not even listening Ron. If she's as obsessed about this as you say she is then I'm sure she would have cut into this conversation by now."

"Yeah but still, once she starts she won't stop for a good couple of hours."

"Fine. Hermione? _Hermione?_ Nothing. She's daydreaming."

Feeling too many pairs of eyes on her, Hermione blinked several times and shook her head. Ron, Harry, Ginny and the twins were all watching her.

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" Hermione asked awkwardly.

George laughed. "Kinda. What's got your head in the clouds?"

"Oh just..." _Malfoy. "_The competition, that's all," she said, doing her best to avoid Ron's eyes as subtly as possible. "What were you talking about?"

The twins grinned at Ron and said "house-elves" at the same time.

Since she left Hogwarts that morning, Draco had been inadvertently invading Hermione's thoughts. She didn't know why it piqued her curiosity so much that he seemed to be avoiding going home, but it just… did. Something about it felt odd. Ever since the night at the Astronomy Tower, Hermione felt like something about him seemed different. There was that whole comment about her 'being the only person who isn't in Slytherin he feels normal around' for one thing, and since then whenever she would try and be civil to him, Draco would just seize up and avoid her.

Funnily enough, the mention of house-elves made all thought of the blond Slytherin disappear from thought almost instantaneously.

"House-elves?" she cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms on the table. "Well I hope you were discussing ways of helping those poor, mistreated creatures and not of ways you can exploit them."

The twins exchanged looks of regret. Ron sighed.

"I warned you, didn't I?" he said.

"Er, Hermione, you know they don't mind-."

"Fred, don't you think we've all tried to argue these points to her before?" Ginny said, gesturing to Ron, Harry and herself.

"Does this mean we'll be losing your consumer patronage if we got a house-elf for the shop? It gets messed up so quickly and we can't run the shop and cast about twenty cleaning spells a minute at the same time."

"So just enchant a mop or a broom to do the cleaning," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"You have seen our shop, right?" George laughed. "There's not exactly much floor space to accommodate customers and enchanted Muggle cleaning items. House-elves have their… _elf_ magic so they won't get in the way."

"Well, it's not like I'm a big-spender at your shop anyway," Hermione said. "But if you get a house-elf you need to make sure that it'll get paid and that it's looked after -."

"We will," the twins said quickly, having found an out of this conversation. "Well we'll try, but I doubt they'd accept payment."

"Yes but-."

"Right, that elf business is cleared up, so let's talk about something else," Ginny said brightly. "Have you lot been put into your pairs yet? Have you done any tasks?"

And just like that, Malfoy wormed his way into Hermione's head again. _Dammit!_

"Yes, do tell," Fred grinned.

Ron's ears turned red. "We've been paired up with the bloody Slytherins."

The other three Weasleys burst out laughing.

"How was that decided then? Pull a name out of the Sorting hat or something?"

"I bloody wish it was pot-luck," Ron muttered. "Then I could have avoided the torment of Parkinson for the next month."

"PARKINSON!" Ginny had just taken a drink of her pumpkin juice at the wrong moment, and had sprayed it across the table as she laughed. "Merlin, Dumbledore does have a way of going about things. So come on then, who are you and Mione with?" she asked Harry, who had been keeping quiet in the hopes it would delay the inevitable of telling his girlfriend the explanations behind the pairings.

"I'm with Daphne Greengrass," he said, trying to keep his voice even.

Ginny pulled a _'not-bad'_ face. "At least she's not as much of a pain as Parkinson, although she does walk around with that 'I'm-much-better-than-everyone-else' kind of attitude that makes me want to Bat-Bogey hex her… what about you, Mione?"

Hermione was lost in thought again, chewing her lip and staring vacantly at the table, so Harry answered for her.

"Malfoy."

"What?" Ginny asked with wide-eyes. "Are you telling me that Dumbledore purposefully paired you all up with that lot, thinking it would be a good idea?"

"Yeah, what exactly is the logic behind this?" George asked.

"Mm, what about Malfoy?" Hermione said, being a little slow on the uptake.

"You've been paired up with Malfoy for this competition?" Ginny asked.

"Oh yeah," Hermione said. "We did the first proper test yesterday and working with him wasn't anywhere near as awful as I expected it to be. He's still an arse though, and I'm not seeing where this 'chemistry' stuff is between us but in a way Slytherins and Gryffindors together makes sense to promote inter-house-."

"Hold up," Ginny said, ceasing Hermione's babble. "What's all this about 'chemistry'?"

"That was the basis for why I got stuck with Parkinson and Harry didn't," Ron answered. "Because she and I have chemistry. What a load of crap."

"But it's nothing romantic though," Harry said quickly as Ginny's eyebrows shot halfway up her forehead. "It's just about who we worked better with in the test on the first day." He also gave Ron a pointed look out of the corner of his eye as he said this.

Hermione watched this and frowned, wondering what Ron had said to Harry to earn such a look.

"Ah," Ginny said, smiling a little too forcibly. Hermione smiled too and rolled her eyes; it seemed the tendency to get jealous easily ran in the family if her fourth year argument with Ron about the Yule Ball was anything to go by. Although, being the youngest two children, Ron and Ginny did have justified reason for their insecurities.

Harry seemed to have picked up on the way Ginny had tensed up too. He started to lean in to kiss her, at a loss of what else he could do in the awkward silence, but she caught his cheeks in between her thumb and index finger, stopping him. She squeezed his cheeks together, causing him to resemble a puffer-fish.

"Listen up Potter," Ginny said in a low voice. "This chemistry stuff with you and Greengrass better stay on strictly business terms otherwise the two of you will face an eternity of sneezing bats. Got it?"

"Yes," Harry said through his smushed lips looking at his girlfriend with wide green eyes.

All of a sudden Ginny's demeanour changed, and she smiled sweetly at Harry and loosened her grip before kissing his mouth gently. "Good. Now I fancy another game of three-on-three Quidditch. You all up for it?"

There was a chorus of agreeable mumbles around the table.

"Kay, sis," George said, getting up from his chair. "Charlie's still arguing with that guy from Algeria through the floo network so I'll just let him know.

"What are they arguing about?" Hermione asked.

The twins shrugged. "Dragons."

Hermione nodded. Charlie really did have a one-track mind. It didn't matter how a conversation with him would start off but it always looped around to dragons at some point. It was quite astonishing really.

Everyone slowly started to disperse from the kitchen, the twins arguing about who was on Ginny's team since she had a tendency to take no prisoners out on the pitch, and she was in a tetchy mood anyway since the whole Daphne thing came about. Ginny and Harry stood also, and left the room to get their brooms from the shed, and Hermione and Ron were alone.

"Hey Ron, you coming?" Ginny called from the door.

"Oh I'll be there in a minute," he replied.

"Er, okay then," Ginny said, taking Harry's hand and turning to leave. Harry looked like he wanted to protest but apparently thought against it.

Silence befell the kitchen, and it was during this time that Hermione realised this was the first time she and Ron had been alone together since the first night back at Hogwarts. He clearly stayed behind for a reason, and Hermione had a funny feeling in her stomach about it.

"Mione are you okay?" Ron finally asked.

She blinked in confusion. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just… I dunno how to explain it, but you've been kinda quiet and reserved ever since you got here, like you're lost in thought about something."

"Just the competition, that's all," Hermione reiterated her earlier excuse. "I'm fine, Ron. Honestly."

"You'd tell me if something was up though wouldn't you?" he asked. "If something or some_one_ was bothering you…"

"Of course I would. Wait, where are you going with this?" Hermione asked as she picked up on Ron's tone. "You think I'm hiding something from you?"

He shrugged. "Aren't you?"

"Oh," Hermione crossed her arms. "And just what exactly are you so convinced I'm hiding?"

"Malfoy," Ron said steadily and met her gaze.

Hermione's frown deepened. "What _about_ Malfoy?"

"He's who you're thinking about," Ron said. It wasn't phrased as a question, but Hermione treated it as such.

"Well, let's just say for argument's sake that you're right. Then what?"

Ron bristled. The earlier encounter with Draco flashed through his mind. "Something's going on with you two, isn't it? You've been macking off with the ferret!"

Of all the things Hermione had imagined spilling from Ron's mouth, that certainly wasn't it. The notion was so absurd that it was almost laughable.

"Are you joking?" she spluttered.

He shrugged again, his expression was serious. "Well isn't there? There's that comment he made about you the other day – something about you mentally undressing him," he shuddered. "You two were paired together because of your 'chemistry', and he went back to the castle this morning to look for you."

"He was what?" Hermione couldn't believe she was having this conversation right now. "Ron, he and I barely spoke two sentences to each other! Not to mention he slammed the bloody door in my face-."

Ron evidently hadn't been listening to a word of this as his eyes widened in what appeared to be a sudden realisation in that moment. "Wait… is this why you suggested that we see other people? Did you want to have some random fling with the ferret before you burdened yourself with me come September?"

Hermione rose from her chair, stormed over to Ron and slapped him. It wasn't a particularly forceful one, but the impact of it erased the scowl from his face immediately. "How dare you suggest such a thing, Ron!" she yelled. "I never said a bloody word about _me_ seeing other people during this break. And do you honestly think if I wanted some fling that I'd choose _Malfoy_ of all people to have it with?"

Her heavy breathing was audible in the silence. Only then did Hermione realise that angry tears were threatening to spill over at any second. She was still so close to Ron's face; so close that she could almost see the guilt slowly erasing the last traces of dis-trust in his blue eyes. Those eyes she used to fantasize about getting lost in…

The next thing she felt was Ron's hand cradling the back of her head and his lips crashing into hers. For a moment she kissed back, but then her head kicked in and she remembered what they were just fighting about a moment before. She pushed him off and took a couple of paces back.

"What are you doing? You've you some bloody nerve Ronald Weasley!"

"I'm sorry okay," Ron wiped his palms down his face in anguish. "I just… this is gonna sound really stupid, but I found this book in the room you were staying in before. I thought it was an old text book, but then it turned out to be an issue of _Witch Weekly_."

Hermione chewed her lip and tried not to give away the fact that she had charmed the magazine. "Go on," she said.

"Right, well, it said something about it being a good thing if you argue with someone you're in a relationship with. Something like it means there's still passion. I just thought…well, did it feel any different?"

He looked up at Hermione hopefully.

"No it didn't," she replied truthfully. "And I think you're forgetting that we aren't together Ron. You have no right to be jealous even if there was something between me and Malfoy - which there _isn't_ - especially when I suggested that you be the one to see someone else for _us – _so _we_ can be together!"

"I know, but I just thought-."

"No. You didn't!" Hermione felt her temper rising again. "If you really must know I was thinking about Malfoy because… well, I'm worried about him. He hasn't been going home and-."

"So what? It's Malfoy! That git deserves everything that he got-."

"No he didn't," Hermione argued. "He is not his father, Ron! He wasn't there that night like Lucius was!"

"Bloody hell – you're actually defending him now?"

"Apparently so. I feel somewhat obligated to care to an extent since I've been paired with him and the Heads are probably required to be compassionate to one another," Hermione said. "And I wouldn't need to defend him if you hadn't accused me of using our break for my own sodding gain!"

Ron's defences collapsed again as Hermione marched around the table and out of the kitchen. She headed for the front door of The Burrow.

"Mione where are you going?" Ron ran after her.

"Away."

"Where's 'away'?"

"Back to school," Hermione sniffed. She turned when Ron grabbed her wrist. There was no rush of heat like there was when Draco did this same thing to her a few nights back. And that thought made her hand jerk out of Ron's grasp in shock.

"But-."

"No 'buts' Ron. I can't be around you right now."

"Mione I'm sorry okay? It's just that I'm finding this break thing really hard and Harry said some stuff. I went a bit crazy, but please stay. I lo-."

"Don't say it Ron," Hermione said dangerously. "If you loved me then you wouldn't have jumped to such mad conclusions," she sighed. "But I can see why you'd be feeling insecure. I'm willing to keep this break going, but only if you go through with your end of the bargain."

"But there isn't anyone else I want to be with. Even if it's only temporary," Ron stated stubbornly.

"Then just… just be my friend," Hermione said. "We need to at least be single for the remainder of the month. That means no more wild accusations and jealous outbursts."

Ron nodded grimly and gave Hermione a small smile. "Mione, I can act like we're single, but deep down I won't be able to totally convince myself it's true since it's only temporary. I just don't think you get that I do have some justification in feeling jealous. I mean, is it really such a bad thing that I had such mental thoughts about Malfoy? If anything that just shows how crazy I am about you. How crazy I've been about you for ages."

He reached out tentatively and stroked Hermione's hand for a brief second. She was completely taken aback. In the blink of an eye Ron had gone from a loveable idiot to a totally irrational idiot and now he was being so sincere and sweet that she didn't know how to feel.

Hermione eventually decided that she'd remain indifferent on the subject until she'd had some space. No good could come from her acting when her thoughts weren't focused. Hell, just look what happened in fifth year with the Umbridge/ Centaur fiasco!

"I think you ended up reading more of _Witch Weekly_ than you let on," she smiled, reaching up and giving Ron's shoulder a squeeze, letting him know without words that they'd be okay. She felt saddened that she couldn't repeat his words back to him. She had felt crazy about him for a long time too, but that feeling just wasn't there any longer. Deep down she didn't think continuing this break would make any difference to that, but she at least owed him her co-operation in that.

"I see your point, Ron. But just know that there is a fine line between concerned-jealousy and straight-out accusing someone of something." Hermione decided to leave it at that, making sure to keep her voice firm. Anger was still bubbling inside her but she was determined not to push Ron away any more than she already was.

She felt like she was putting up invisible barriers between herself and her best friend as she turned on the spot and apparated to Hogsmeade. As the blurry shape of the Burrow disappeared Hermione caught a glimpse of Harry and Ginny watching her from the broom shed.

Great: just the thing to make her feel better. Now Harry was going to get caught up in the middle of this, and Hermione didn't want to put him in that position for the umpteenth time.

Right on cue, the heavens decided to open, and Hermione trudged back to the castle in the rain.

* * *

Draco stood on the balcony of the Astronomy Tower staring blankly out at the horizon. He was bored out of his wits. At least in the common room there were those comfy chairs so he could at least_ enjoy_ boredom, but Mack and Padma had decided to copy him and sneak back into the castle for some 'alone time', and Draco certainly wasn't going to stick around when that was going on – comfy chairs or not.

He soon became vaguely aware of footsteps – choppy and loud – ascending the staircase behind him, but he did not turn.

The footsteps stopped, and Draco's curiosity was piqued. He arched an eyebrow and turned slowly, leaning his shoulder against the stone wall as he did so.

"Really Granger? Is it not enough for you to inflict your irritating presence on me during the competition?" Draco hesitated when he noticed Hermione's agitated countenance.

Her whole body seemed tense, her jaw was set and her brown eyes were flaring with frustration. She looked so angry but yet so… vulnerable. She was evidently on the brink of tears but was so determined not to let them fall in his presence that she hadn't spat a witty comeback his way yet.

"Shut up Malfoy," she said in a forcibly steady voice. "I didn't come and find you on purpose, so you can save whatever insults or rants I'm sure you're bursting to hurl my way."

"Oh?" Draco smirked. "I thought your 'angry spots' were the lake or the library. You know very well this is my spot, so what brings you here? More to the point, why are you not here with the potty and his pet weasel?"

"Well the library's closed and the lake isn't exactly an option."

"What do you mean?" It didn't escape Draco's attention that she didn't scold him for insulting her friends.

Hermione frowned. "How can you be standing right next to the balcony and not notice the bloody weather?"

Draco swivelled around and blinked in surprise when he saw the gathering of grey clouds and the rain that was pouring out of them.

"Merlin I must have been out of it," he commented to himself as it suddenly registered that the girl's hair wasn't its usual bushy owl's nest. It hung straight down her shoulders in from dampness of the rain.

"What?"

"Oh er, I see what you mean about the lake," Draco improvised. "What are you still doing here?" he asked on a new note.

Hermione scowled. "Oh how charming you are. First you slam a door in my face and now you're kicking me out? You really know how to make a girl feel special," she said dryly, folding her arms.

"Since when have I ever tried to make you feel special Granger?" Draco scoffed. "Seriously, why are you still here?"

"Where do you suggest I go?" Hermione asked. "Ernie and Padma are… in the common room and outside is no good."

Draco couldn't help but smirk when he saw her cheeks turn red when she mentioned Ernie and Padma. He processed what she had said and slowly walked towards her, evaluating her with his gaze. She immediately looked away when her eyes briefly met his; he definitely had her sussed out.

"Forgive me for being presumptuous Granger, but something tells me you're here for a reason," he said smoothly. "Maybe you didn't come here to seek me out but I would have thought you'd make it your mission to find _some_ place to go if the alternative was staying in here with me."

Hermione chewed her lip. She really must be transparent. What should she say to that?

"That's what I thought," Draco smirked after watching Hermione do an impression of a goldfish for a few seconds. "You know, I'm not exactly a 'sharing' kind of person, so you're wasting your time. Unless of course, you're here to discuss tactics for this competition, but I highly doubt that is the case."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine, you've got me, but just talk to me. You can't keep stuff bottled up."

"That's a laugh," Draco snorted. "Why on earth would I talk to _you_? You're just going to scuttle off and divulge whatever I say to Potter, anyway. So you may as well leave."

He turned his back on her and leant with his elbows on the railings, not even caring about the rain falling into his hair and running down his face. He was well and truly stuck now. There wasn't really anywhere he could run away to and she certainly wasn't going to budge any time soon.

_Bollocks…_

"I'm not going anywhere," Hermione said stubbornly.

"Well fancy that!" Draco's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "You always have to stick your nose in where it isn't wanted."

"Why do you always do this, Malfoy? You just shut everyone out when they try and help you-."

"Because it's none of your business, Granger," he replied without looking at her. "Why do you even care? You hate me."

"Hate is a strong word," Hermione said after a long pause. "I like to think that last year gave you a bit of a reality check, so I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, even if you are still a complete pig."

Draco just grunted and stared blankly ahead.

"And," Hermione chewed her lip. "The other day you said something that kind of _does_ make this my business."

Draco tilted his head so he was looking at her; his left brow was raised in a perfect arch.

"Oh? Remind me about that Granger. My brain is in the habit of not really processing or easily forgetting my conversations with you."

Hermione ignored the bait and answered him. "You said that I was the only non-Slytherin that you feel somewhat normal around, and you stormed off before you could explain what you meant."

"I believe that was because you weren't willing to make the exchange even," he drawled simply. "It's your own fault that you're here digging for information now."

Hermione lifted one of her own brows, "I see you remembered that particular discussion."

He shrugged but didn't speak.

Hermione chewed her lip and looked at Draco, who had looked away from her again. His eyes were as troubled and stormy as the clouds that were reflected in them, and the rain that ran down his pale skin could easily be mistaken for teardrops. She recalled the countless conversations she'd had with Harry and Ron; conversations that made seeing Draco like this a source of humour. She'd found it funny at the time, but she wasn't laughing now.

"What would you say if I was willing to make this even now?" she offered. She knew she was pushing her luck with this; he was bound to snap at any moment, but she had to try. He had been willing to talk to her the other day…

"You're bloody persistent, aren't you Granger?" Draco sighed. "But I see that I won't be getting rid of you unless I accept, so I'll co-operate, for now."

He dragged himself up from the railings and walked deeper into the room. He sat down on the step that led up to the balcony with his legs stretched out and crossed in front of him. It amazed Hermione how he could be so poised and calm when she was sure he was on the brink of hexing her for interfering too much. She followed him, sitting on the step a little way away from him.

When he didn't speak, she decided to start. "What exactly is it you want to know about Ron and me?"

Draco smirked. "Like I said, I'm not particularly interested, but I need something to amuse me in exchange for telling you stuff that you're dying to know, so just get it over with and ask your damn questions, Granger."

Hermione sighed. "Okay, well, to start with tell me what you meant by the comment about feeling normal around me," she said.

"_To start with_?" Draco's eyebrows shot up beneath his blond fringe. "How many questions do you have, Granger?"

"A few," Hermione replied honestly.

"Bloody hell. Fine," he scowled. "I said that because it's true Granger, or at least, it _was_. People like Patil have been tiptoeing around me – around _all_ of the Slytherins – like we'd break down at the slightest insult or negative comment because of what happened last year. All of the pity is really uncalled for; we're made of tougher stuff than that, and you seemed to be the one of the only people who acted no different around me."

"How do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"On the first day at the first task you were just as snooty and bossy as ever. You didn't make my life easier by letting me have my own way like all of the other girls did; you fought to have your way like the stubborn bushy-haired bookworm you've always been. And that was refreshing in a way; to have a sense of normality back in my life for those five minutes until I had to move on to someone else and be patronised to no end."

"Is that why you went a bit overboard with trying to get a rise out of me?"

Draco shrugged and stared at the floor. "Who can say? Anyway there's my answer to your first question."

Hermione didn't even have to think before she asked the next. "Why did you storm off that night we were in here? I get the feeling there was more to it than mere annoyance that I wasn't willing to exchange information with you."

Draco sighed. Did this girl _always_ have to prove her intelligence by psychoanalysing him? "You showed me compassion; you asked if last year was bad for me. For one thing I couldn't understand why the hell you'd care about that – aside from the purpose of gloating to Potter and Weasley – after everything I'd ever said and done to you in the past. Then there was the second task when you helped me with the toast after I'd Silenced you a moment earlier. Not to sound sexist, but I know how girl's minds work. If I told you anything then you'd start to pity me as well, and that would mean I'd definitely hit rock bottom. Your ignorance is my bliss, Granger."

"Hey!" Hermione bristled. Even when he was being somewhat open with her he still had the capacity to insult her at every opportunity. "I wouldn't pity you, Malfoy. I know what it's like to be targeted for something I have no control over, and I know that the pity I got from people was just empty words. It made me feel weak and small, and I'm sure that's how you feel when Padma goes on about being nice to you because of this unity stuff."

Draco glanced sideways at the witch and calculated her intently. He'd never thought about it like that before, mainly because he had never really cared, and that was all the more reason to doubt Hermione's motives for suddenly caring about him now. "That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard Granger," he said. "You must be desperate to know -."

"You and I both know that I'm as transparent as glass when it comes to being tactical. You witnessed that first hand in the Potions task," Hermione argued.

"Well either way I'm not risking telling you anything more Granger," Draco said, bending his legs and pushing himself to his feet. "I get that you may understand, but if you of all people start pitying me than I may just go insane. It's bad enough that I'm having to rely on you to continue treating me like you always have done."

He started moving to leave but Hermione stood and caught his arm. He too was dressed in a t-shirt, and his forearm was initially cool at the touch from the rain that had fallen onto it a couple of minutes before, but after a matter of seconds an unnatural heat pulsed through his skin and into Hermione's palm. She flinched back and let him go.

Draco didn't miss the shock in her eyes as this happened.

"What Granger? I don't have cooties or anything," he said dryly.

"It's nothing," Hermione answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her sudden nervous demeanour clearly suggested otherwise.

"Sit down Granger," Draco said. "I may not be willing to divulge anything else yet, but I'm sure as hell not going anywhere until you've taken a denting to your pride, too."

"Fine," Hermione sat back down. She had a feeling she'd regret telling Malfoy of all people about this, but at the same time, she really felt the need to get this off her chest. She couldn't say anything to Ginny or Harry, who'd be caught in the middle of any future arguments. At least Malfoy was impartial and wouldn't really give a toss about any of it.

"Ron and I are on a break, and one of the terms of it was to remain friends for this month, just so we can think things through. Anyway, I suggested that he maybe see other people in the mean time, and apparently to him that meant that I wanted an excuse to hook up with you."

"Well Weasley certainly has an active imagination," Draco commented. "He does realise that we didn't ask to be paired together for this competition, right? More to the point, has he not noticed that we have never had a civil conversation?"

"Of course he does. He spends most of his free time complaining about Parkinson. And well, Ron has a tendency to speak before thinking."

"So you thought that touching me automatically meant that Weasley had been right?" Draco cocked an eyebrow, still confused about Hermione's reaction just now.

"No, I," Hermione bit her lip. "I can't tell you why I flinched away like that."

"Oh and why not? Come on Granger, at least I had the decency to explain why I'm not saying anything more about my situation."

"Because either you'll just rub it in Ron's face and put our friendship under more strain than there already is or… I don't know, but I think it's for the best if I don't say anything."

Silence.

Neither of them really knew what to say next; they were at an impasse. Both had more to say but weren't willing to do so.

"To be honest I'm a little surprised you aren't completely disgusted by the fact that I touched you," Hermione said, speaking neither to herself or Draco in particular.

"Granger you as good as referenced the fact that I used to pick on you because of your blood status, and you're right – you don't have any control over that. I know what it must have been like for you now, and well, it's a load of shit. It would be hypocritical of me to keep holding that over you."

"You were hypocritical about that whole eye-rolling thing," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah but this is different," Draco said. "Last year – it has made me grow up, you know? Sort of. I don't purposefully try and get a rise out of Weasel and Potter just for the hell of it any more - only when I'm provoked. Hell, just ask them! I had the displeasure of crossing paths with them this morning."

"Yes, Ron did mention something like that," Hermione said. "Look Malfoy, I'm not quite sure how the hell it's even possible for us to be in a room for this long without having some kind of argument, but… well, we have been working well together on these tasks and I don't know, maybe… um…"

"Spit it out Granger," Draco sighed. It unnerved him to no end that he and his one-time enemy were reaching some kind of understanding.

"Should we just tell each other everything? I wouldn't pity you and you wouldn't piss Ron off on purpose. I think it could do us both good to get this stuff off our chests."

Draco paused. He seriously contemplated her offer for a moment, but part of him was filled with dread at the prospect of the dynamics of his rocky relationship with the witch changing in such a way; that would be all remaining normality in his life smashed to pieces. Thinking about it, the fact they were having such a civil and personal conversation was a change in itself, and that made Draco's blood turn to ice.

He decided that he was going to try and keep everything with this girl as normal and as familiar as possible from then on. He'd only have to be civil to her when the tasks came around, that way.

"No Granger. I said I wasn't going to tell you anything more, and quite frankly I don't give a Pygmy Puff's arse about whatever's happening between you and Weasel."

Hermione paused and frowned. Did Pygmy Puff's even have arses? They were just like a fuzzy pom-pom with a face…

"But Malfoy-."

"But nothing. You're way too meddling for your own bloody good." He stood up and headed for the staircase, and this time Hermione didn't try and stop him.

She knew asking that question couldn't have ended well, but she had been convinced she was making headway in getting him to open up to her, and that could only benefit their chances of doing well in the competition. She also knew that if she kept pushing him now then he'd start ignoring her altogether. Malfoy was an insanely private person even at the best of times.

"I'm sorry if I pushed you too far," she said as he was just about to start his descent. "Draco."

His cool grey eyes settled on her for a moment. Then she saw his lip curl up a fraction in the beginnings of a sneer and he continued on down without another word.

Draco couldn't believe it. All of that talk about not pitying him and now she was calling him by his first name. So much for wanting everything to stay the same…

Back up in the tower Hermione remained sitting on the step, with only the patter of rain on the roof as background noise. Her mind was racing. It was probably a good thing that he didn't allow her to explain her side of things. It didn't even make sense to _her_, so she could only imagine his reaction if she told him that she had felt a rush of electric heat when she touched his arm when not even an hour ago she felt nothing when Ron touched her wrist.

He'd probably tell her she was going insane. Hell, _she_ thought she was going insane.

Hermione's mind wandered back to the Potions task. For a second his hand had knocked against hers whilst they were wearing the cuffs, and he had flinched just like she had done.

Did that mean he felt it too?

That would mean Hermione hadn't been imagining it.

She could only hope that the feeling wasn't just exclusive to Draco.

Hermione felt faint. She collapsed backwards so she was staring up at the ceiling of the tower. One lone word buzzed around her mind.

_Chemistry…_

She could only hope that Ron was right when he said she always overthought everything.

_To be continued…_


	7. The Storm

**A/N: **You requested two halves, so here we are. (Just don't complain that it's kind of left on a cliffy that you wouldn't have had with the whole chapter ;D). On that same note, not an awful lot happens since this was meant to have another 4,000 words or so. But this was literally the only decent place to split it. Ah well, the next half will be up in a few days.

I know the Dramione relationship is progressing slowly, but don't fear, I'm planning stuff and things will get moving properly very soon...

Thank you all of my reviewers, and followers. It's amazing to see that you're enjoying this story :D

(Ps - I'm noticing that there was also a chapter in Two Weeks called The Storm. Hm, maybe this should just be a trend for all my MCs :P)

* * *

**7**

**:. The Storm .: **

"Whoops – sorry Terry," Hermione apologised to the Ravenclaw boy, touching his hand for a brief second as she walked on by across the common room to her favourite chair, chewing her lip.

"Mione are you okay?" Ron asked. "You seem to be bumping into everyone lately," he laughed in an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere.

Hermione just shot him a stern look. Ron gave her a weak lop-sided smile and shrugged at Harry. She understood that he didn't fully think his accusation through the day before; hell, she had grown used to Ron messing up in such a way over the years. For the most part she found it endearing, but yesterday was different, and if he thought everything was going to be just peachy the day after then he was very mistaken. What he did was the equivalent of her accusing him of messing around with Parkinson, and that was just laughable, not to mention impossible.

Ron hadn't been wrong that she was going through a clumsy spell at the moment, but he was oblivious to the fact that Hermione had bumped into Terry, Anthony, and even Blaise completely on purpose at some point through the day. She had been tossing and turning most of the night, unable to sleep because of that moment the previous night; that rush of something she felt when she caught Draco's arm.

She'd been on a mission ever since she woke up to determine if it was just coincidence that she had felt something with him and not Ron. She'd almost convinced herself that she hadn't felt anything simply because he was her friend, but then she made contact with Anthony's wrist as she walked past him that morning and still there was nothing… not that she was expecting there to be something anyway since she had never seen eye-to-eye with him in the past. But that logic was meaningless; it's not like she and Draco were ever best buddies.

"Potter?" Daphne poked her head around the door to the common room. She'd just returned from dinner in Hogsmeade with Pansy. The dark-haired witch swept past and into the room but Daphne stayed put outside.

"Mm?" Harry looked up from the sofa.

"Dumbledore wants us to go to his office," she said. "He said something about wanting to have a meeting with all of the pairs at some point during the month to discuss how we're finding this thing and blah blah blah," the blonde rolled her eyes.

"Why?" Harry seemed to sink further into the plush cushions that get out of them.

"How the hell should I know? Probably because we're the guinea-pigs so he wants to know if this system will be something he can inflict on the poor sixth years next year."

Harry grumbled a little as he clocked Blaise surreptitiously flicking his gaze over to his seat. He knew if he got up he'd be relegated to the horrible wooden chairs at the back of the room when he returned, but he didn't have much of a choice.

"Fine," he sighed, making a meal of getting up.

Just then, Justin barged past Daphne so he could get into the room, and Hermione saw a golden opportunity to test her theory one more time. She ran the risk of making herself too obvious, but she could lie and say that her clumsiness was down to Draco hexing her if she was confronted. This was all his fault anyway. Sort of.

"Merlin's pants, watch it!" Daphne growled at the Hufflepuff.

"Oh sorry, didn't see you there," Justin sneered at her.

Hermione frowned. It was widely known that Justin was one to carry a grudge, but she had never seen him take it so far. He'd been actively involved in the rebellion against Daphne's house last year, but it amazed her that it wasn't yet out of his system. She also recalled the first day they returned, and he had shuffled away from Draco in the Hall.

Hermione would be lying if she said she hadn't thought what he did last year was justified; she actually thought the Slytherins deserved a bit of their own medicine, but it was getting to be really uncalled for now; he didn't seem to give two shits about inter-house unity. Or rather, he had lost sight of the justice he had been fighting for initially. What's more she now knew that Draco at least had most certainly learnt his lesson; provoking them all further would just make them regress back to the bullies they were renowned to be.

"Oh Harry I'll walk with you," she said, hauling herself up and scurrying to walk beside her friend.

"Er why? I'm only going to the door, Mione," Harry replied.

"Well you know, stretching my legs and all that," Hermione cringed at how pathetic her excuse was, but there was no turning back now.

She accidentally on purpose bumped into Justin.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," she echoed his earlier words and briefly touched his upper arm, where she had knocked him.

There was nothing more to it than skin-to-skin contact.

_Damn!_

Justin gave her a strange look but nodded his acceptance of her apology and continued walking to the back of the room, where the other Hufflepuffs were playing Gobstones.

"That is one messed up Hufflepuff," Daphne said under her breath as Hermione and Harry reached the door. "You think the Sorting Hat made a mistake?"

"Who knows, maybe he asked to be put in that house," Harry said.

Daphne scoffed. "Good one, Potter. Who would _ask_ to be in that house? Come on, let's get this shitty meeting over with."

She flounced away and Harry trailed behind her, leaving Hermione to foolishly walk back across the room to her seat. Blaise and Lavender had liberated Harry's place by the time she got there, leaving her with a prime view of their disgusting snogging sessions.

"Get a bloody room," she wrinkled her nose as Lavender's giggling started grating on her patience.

"Both occupied," Blaise shrugged. "And I'm not about to nick someone else's. I have some morals, Granger."

"What perfect timing for that to happen," Hermione sighed.

"Oh just ignore her," Lavender cooed. "She's just got her wand in a knot because she's a prude."

"I'd rather be a prude than some wanton-."

"Woah, ladies," Blaise sat up. "As much as I love a good cat-fight, let's keep the peace, yeah?"

Hermione frowned. Since when did Zabini like taking the moral high ground? She just rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her book, ignoring Lavender's glares.

"I just need to go and re-apply my lip-gloss," the mousy-haired witch said. "Don't you go running off anywhere," she gave Blaise's thigh a squeeze and skipped off to the bathroom.

Hermione found herself reading the same sentence over and over when she sensed Blaise's dark eyes on her along with Ron's from the other side of the living area.

"What?" she asked, looking between the two boys.

"Nothing," Blaise said. "It just surprises me how you handled that situation. You've always presented yourself as the calm and collected sort who wouldn't get so provoked so easily, that's all. Normally you just brush stuff off instead of reacting."

Ron just nodded his agreement. Hermione knew what he was thinking, and there was no doubt that it had something to do with the fact that he thought the 'break with Lavender' situation was still annoying her. She sighed. At least that meant he hadn't figured out the real reason for her tetchiness that evening.

"Oh I'm just tired that's all. I tend to have a short temper when I'm tired," Hermione answered, feigning a yawn to keep up the act. The boys still looked at her closely, as if they could see through her pretences.

"Hey Ron! Fancy a game of Wizard's Chess?" Ernie called.

"Er, yeah all right," Ron shrugged, getting up and strolling to the other side of the room. Hermione let out a long breath.

"So what's the _real_ reason Granger?" Blaise asked. "Nothing to do with Draco by any chance?"

The Slytherin smirked when Hermione immediately reacted to his words, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open ever so slightly.

"I thought so," Blaise said coolly.

Hermione chewed her lip as she pondered how to respond to that. How much did Blaise know about what happened yesterday, if anything at all? She decided to play it cool, and not to let on any more information than was necessary.

"Well you know what he's like," she waved a dismissive hand. "He never fails to rub me up the wrong way."

Blaise cocked an eyebrow – was that just a Slytherin trait or something? – and grinned.

"I'll be sure to tell him to start rubbing you up the ri-."

"Don't even finish that sentence, Zabini," Hermione warned, lifting her book so it was in front of her face to mask the blush.

Lavender returned shortly and resumed her snogging session with Blaise. Hermione's lip curled in dislike. Why Lavender had felt the need to re-apply lip-gloss that was just going to get smudged again straight away was beyond her, although it was quite amusing to see Blaise with a sparkly mouth in the brief moments they'd decide to draw breath.

This amusement aside Hermione's mind was about fit to burst with panicked thoughts. Why on earth was it just Draco she had felt something with? She could easily start to venture a guess but she was afraid of what she may unwittingly conclude. She was just going to have to try her best to ignore whatever it was.

The common room door clicked open again, and in walked Harry and Daphne. Never before had Hermione been so thankful to see her best friend.

"That was a quick meeting," she commented.

Harry took a step towards her, but then he noticed that Ron was on the other side of the room. He folded his arms and pursed his lips slightly as he looked awkwardly between them. Hermione winced; she knew this was going to happen after yesterday. Harry felt like he had to choose between her and Ron.

Eventually Harry noticed that Hermione was sitting in close range of Lavender and Blaise and decided to sit with her, since Ron was engrossed in the Chess game. He perched himself on the edge of the seat with his back drawn up straight, as if not entirely comfortable with his decision. Daphne just shuffled awkwardly to her dormitory door before thinking against going inside and walking over to the group as well.

"Merlin, get a room, Zabini," she said tensely with a curl of her lip, straightening her short skirt before perching herself delicately on the arm of the sofa. Harry watched this, and Lavender and Blaise, with a well-masked expression of dislike.

"So how did it go?" Hermione asked them both.

Harry and Daphne looked at each other briefly, for some reason silently debating who should be the one to answer. Hermione thought this a little odd as she and Daphne had never really spoken all that much in the past, but then again this could just be her trying to make an effort at being civil like Draco had done the day before.

"It was okay," Harry answered. "Dumbledore just asked us about-."

Daphne cleared her throat sharply and shot Harry a warning look. His green eyes widened.

"Oh right," he said. "Er we were told not to tell anyone or really discuss anything about it. He doesn't want us to say what questions he asked to avoid people preparing answers beforehand."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Well that makes sense I suppose."

Harry released a breath.

"You know Harry, I don't want you to feel like you have to pick sides," Hermione went on. "I'm not going to hold yesterday over Ron."

She blushed when she saw that Daphne was listening intently, and doing nothing to mask the fact. The last thing she needed was another nosy Slytherin interrogating her about Ron.

"Um, Daphne could you give us some space?" she asked as politely as she could.

Daphne bristled. "Er… how come you're making me leave when Zabini's sat right there?"

"He's not exactly listening," Hermione said with a sideways glance at the way he and Lavender were still entangled in one another.

The blonde girl pinched the bridge of her nose and slowly stood up, stooping towards her dormitory door and taking a deep breath before disappearing inside.

"She's acting rather odd," said Hermione. "Has she fallen out with Parkinson?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's not like her to protest about that and seem so anxious about going into her own room. I half expected her to just refuse to move."

"Who knows what's up with her?" said Harry, eyeing the door leading to Daphne's dormitory for a while.

"Not to sound rude Harry, but you seem a little on edge too. Is it the me and Ron thing that's getting to you?" Hermione chewed her lip nervously.

"What you and Ron thing?"

Hermione started and groaned. She felt like she'd just put her foot in it, but thinking back there was no way he could have not overheard or seen the argument. She frowned.

"Harry, are you sure you're okay?"

He bit his lip and nodded once before disappearing into his empty dorm. At almost the same moment Draco flung open his own door. He seemed to know exactly what had just happened as his eyes found Hermione immediately and he arched an eyebrow. She just looked determinedly down at her book, wondering what the hell was going on with everyone today.

* * *

After cooling off for a while in his dorm and then disappearing briefly from the common room - presumably to have a walk - Harry seemed back to his normal self. He apologised for being so on-edge earlier and that she needn't worry about putting him in the middle of anything with Ron; he decided that if they had a proper argument then he'd simply try and remain impartial.

Hermione decided not to press Harry on the reasons behind his strange behaviour. Throughout sixth year he'd have occasional 'off' moments when the pressure of the media and talk of Voldemort's downfall (not to mention Sirius's death) became too much for him to deal with, so it was only natural that he still wasn't completely over it yet, and Hermione bringing it into conversation now wouldn't help him.

Everyone – even the Slytherins – were now sat in and around the living area as Padma had requested a meeting to discuss the next password. It had been two days later since Hermione had changed it, and nobody seemed to have picked up on that despite it being in the late evening now.

"So, I've been thinking this needs some kind of organisation," Padma said.

"There's a shocker," Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Well so far the three passwords have been made by a Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Gryffindor," Terry pointed out. "So I think a Ravenclaw should make the next one and then we can just rotate or something?"

Padma nodded. "Hermione's idea of writing the password down for everyone was useful, so-."

Draco scoffed. "This is stupid."

"What, Malfoy?" Padma asked.

"Think about it. What's the bloody point of changing the password every two days? It's more effort than it's worth."

"But Dumbledore said-."

"-That the password _could_ be changed every two days," Draco sighed. "Read between the lines, Patil. Just because we can change it doesn't mean we have to."

The room went silent, and slowly everyone turned to look at Draco: Hermione included.

"What?" He asked.

"Malfoy that's- that's it!" Padma gasped.

"I'm still not following," Draco drawled.

"Don't you remember?" Anthony cut in. "Figuring out how to work around the password was some kind of test. Until now I assume everyone thought that meant trying to work as a group to discuss who'd change it when and how everyone else could be alerted of it."

There was a series of nods around the area.

"But that makes a whole lot more sense!" Ernie proclaimed. "Thinking outside the box – I like it!"

Draco grimaced. "Suck up to me all you want Mack; it won't make me like you more than I already don't."

Ernie shrugged. "S'alright. I'm just gonna carry on anyway since it seems to get on your nerves."

"Just looking at you gets on my nerves," Draco muttered.

"Woah - too far, Malfoy," Ernie said, his grin falling somewhat.

Hermione watched this exchange with interest. It may have just been her imagination but she could swear she saw Draco's mouth twitch upwards into the beginnings of a smile before it fell into his signature sneer. She thought back to her conversation with him yesterday, and remembered that in some ironic way, he needed people to act as they always had done towards him instead of trying to be friends with him. Normality is what he needed, and Ernie had just given that to him, whether he knew it or not.

A few people had also started engaging in their own conversations by now. Hannah looked quite nervous, and played with a strand of her hair. She seemed to want to say something but was unsure about whether she should or not.

Seeing this, Padma asked her to share her opinion whilst they were still on the subject of the password.

"Um, well," Hannah began. "If we're just going to keep the same password – that everyone already knows – then, er, why even have one at all?"

Padma blinked in surprised. "Well, that's actually another good point." The Ravenclaw girl seemed a little put out that she hadn't thought of either of these things herself.

"Can we even do that?" Daphne asked, looking up from her copy of _Witch Weekly_. "Like, how do we tell the door that we don't want one?"

"Maybe we could ask Dumbledore at the next test or something?" Hermione suggested. "And until then we'll just keep the password the same."

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the sixteen students.

"Great," Pansy yawned. "Can we go now?"

"I guess so," Padma smiled.

Pansy and Daphne didn't need telling twice. They stood and flounced into their dormitory without another word.

Draco decided to make a break for it too and headed to his own dorm, with Blaise not far behind him.

The blond cocked a brow when he heard Blaise shut the door as he entered. Draco turned.

"Getting sick of Brown already?" he enquired.

"Nah, it's all good," Blaise grinned. "My jaw's killing me though," he said, rubbing his chin with his hand.

"If you could lay off the public snogging when I'm around, that'd be great."

"Oh, I see," Blaise said as he sat on his bed. "So it was fine in fifth year when you and Parkinson were all over each other all the time around _me_?"

"That was different," Draco argued.

"How?"

"Brown's a Gryffindor," he shrugged.

Blaise rolled his eyes. He had known Draco long enough to distinguish between debates he'd have no chance in hell of winning and those that were actually open to discussion. In this case, it was the former.

"Speaking of Gryffindors," he kicked off his shoes and swung his legs onto the bed. "What's the deal with you and Granger?"

"What exactly are you implying, Zabini?" Draco glared at him suspiciously across the room. The fading sunlight shone through the window and highlighted his eyes dangerously.

"Nothing," Blaise said. "I'm just wondering how you two are getting on with working together? You've heard me go on about Brown but I haven't so much as heard two words from you."

"Did you expect me to say anything? I, unlike you, wasn't particularly happy about this arrangement."

"Wasn't?" Blaise smirked. "Past tense."

Draco sighed deeply. "Just get to the point, if you even have one."

"Have you said something to get her knickers in a twist?" Blaise asked. "She's been acting weird today, and she seemed to imply you were the cause of it."

Draco clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "She can't take a joke. Why do you think I enjoy pissing her off so much?"

"Nah it's not that," Blaise said. "She didn't seem moody or anything. It was a different kind of weird."

"What, like 'Loony Lovegood weird'?"

"Not that either." There was a pause and Blaise suddenly sat up again. "Wait. Malfoy did you even go home yesterday?"

Draco started and felt his heart stop for a split-second. "'Course I did," he lied. "I just came back early and she so happened to be here, just my luck."

Blaise locked eyes with Draco across the room. He clearly didn't believe that he went home but Draco refused to confirm that to him. The boys remained in this stare-off for quite some time before Blaise decided to give up for the night and leave Draco alone in the dormitory with his thoughts.

It hadn't escaped his notice that Hermione had been quite jumpy that day, and how she'd often space out, causing Harry or Ron to snap her out of the daze. Draco also noticed that she had been doing a painfully obvious job of colliding with several of the boys deliberately but under the guise of an accident.

She was up to something. He'd known that much. But what Blaise had just said had got Draco thinking.

He was the cause of her behaviour.

Draco lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, his mind whirring as it tried to come up with some kind of explanation… not that it would do much good. He was still determined to keep everything as normal as possible between them.

Not that it was going to last very long…

* * *

"Well this is just typical," Harry sighed sadly as he entered the common room the next day, sopping wet. Ron wasn't far behind him, looking equally as put out and dishevelled from the unexpected storm that hit just as the two of them had organised a Quidditch match with some of the others.

"What's the problem?" Hermione asked. "You still played in third year in a storm, Harry."

Harry blinked behind his steamed up glasses and removed them to wipe them. "Yeah well, this was just for fun. I wouldn't have minded but then the thunder and lightning started and suddenly people went off the idea." He rolled his eyes as if to demonstrate that the weather was hardly a good reason not to play when a drenched Terry and Ernie slumped into the room.

"Okay now you're staring to sound like Wood," Ron chuckled as he headed towards his dorm to change into some dry clothes.

Harry shot his friend a serious look. "You never had him as a Captain. Trust me, I'm nowhere near as bad as Wood. He was a brilliant Keeper, though."

"Oh yeah – brilliant," Ron agreed as he disappeared into the room. "Although I'm not too sure how I feel about saying that since he plays for Puddlemere and all."

"Yeah, I know all too well about your unwavering loyalty to the Cannons," Harry laughed as he threw himself onto the sofa beside Hermione's armchair in a not-so graceful fashion.

"Ugh, who's talking about that train wreck of a Quidditch team?" Draco asked derisively, poking his head out of his own dorm.

"Here we go," Hermione sighed under her breath, earning agreeable smirks from Susan, Mandy and surprisingly, Lavender.

"Excuse me, 'train wreck'?" Ron emerged in a dry set of jogging bottoms and no shirt.

"Yes, Weasel I believe that is what I said," Draco drawled. He tried not to grimace as he gave Ron's bare torso a quick once-over before turning to Hermione in a movement that wasn't quite so subtle and arched an eyebrow.

She knew immediately that Draco was questioning her previous statement about seeing better bodies than his in the past, and severely struggled not to give him a reaction as Ron glanced over to her. She didn't want to show any signs of guilt that she lied: especially as she looked at her friend and was faced with the hard truth of that. Ron wasn't _un_fit, but he lacked the same muscle definition that Draco had. On the plus side it meant that hugging and cuddling with Ron was a very pleasant experience. Hermione seriously doubted there could be any comfort in hugging someone so… uncuddly as Draco's build made him seem.

Wait. What the hell was she thinking?

Hermione tore her gaze away and made a show of pretending to be very interested in Lavender's dramatic narration of the time she attended a party wearing the same outfit of her evil cousin who was known for being a total novice when it came to fashion.

Given that Hermione didn't really react to Draco's look, Ron pressed on with the Quidditch debate.

"The Cannons have one of the best Beaters around, Malfoy," he argued. "I think you know him. Riley Winnock? He took out your precious Tornadoes Seeker that cost them their place in the quarter-finals of the league last year."

"Oooooh," Pansy and Daphne sucked air through their teeth as if hoping it would add dramatic tension to the tedious debate.

"Yes Weasel, I recall," Draco crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. He was acting far too nonchalant for Ron's liking. "It's a shame the only way your Cannons can win a match is to take out the biggest threat on the pitch. If they weren't such dirty players they wouldn't stand a chance in hell against the Tornadoes."

Ron's eyebrows shot up and Harry stepped in, feeling a sudden defensive urge. "So you only have a problem with dirty playing when it goes against you, Malfoy?"

"Hey I played fair, Potter, unlike some people who automatically got a spot on the team in first year for breaking the rules," Draco sneered.

"Yeah, thanks for helping me get that spot by the way," Harry smirked. "If you hadn't tried to be the big man by stealing Neville's Remembrall then that would never have happened."

"You bloody watch your mouth you Scar-faced-." Draco's hand shot to his pocket to retrieve his wand when Padma decided to intervene.

"Hey, quit it. Do you realise how idiotic you all sound?"

"Well you didn't get onto the team in a totally fair way either, Malfoy," Harry ignored her.

"I could totally whoop your arse at Quidditch, Potter," Draco challenged.

"Oh, you mean the way you did in second year?" Harry's comeback was met with more 'Oooohs' from the girls.

"You act as if last year never happened, Potter. When I got to the Snitch before you."

Harry bristled at that painful memory. "Yeah, well your team still lost, didn't it?"

"Thanks to _my_ Keeping skills," Ron piped up.

Now Hermione felt the need to intervene. This kind of bickering had happened on a regular basis all through sixth year, and them all arguing about it now wasn't going to help.

"Hey! Shut it!" she yelled, standing up from her chair and shouting across the room. "Remember why we're all here. This isn't supposed to be some contest about which house is the best. Plus, it's only bloody Quidditch."

Harry and Ron bit their tongues to keep from protesting. They were very aware that it wouldn't make a difference against Hermione's stubbornly firm opinion on the sport. Draco however, had no previous experience of this.

"_Only_ Quidditch?" he scoffed.

"Yes," Hermione said. "It's a silly game that professionals are vastly overpaid to play."

"I'm sorry Granger, but didn't you date Viktor Krum?" Draco expelled a single laugh at the irony of it all.

"I did not date him," Hermione stated. "I just went to the Yule Ball with him. There was nothing more to it."

"Which was a date," Draco rolled his eyes.

"It was not!"

Lavender snorted. "Godric you really are a prude, Granger. Most girls here would chop their own arm off to be able to say they'd been on a date with Viktor Krum."

Hermione bristled. "Well I still don't count it as one."

"Why not?" Draco asked.

"Because it was a school dance: it was practically customary to ask someone or be asked. It's hardly the same circumstances as being asked on an actual date." She reasoned loftily.

"But it's Viktor Kr-!" Lavender's shrill voice was cut off by Hannah's groan.

"Jeez, what's happened to you lot? A little rain and suddenly you're all picking fights!"

"Because the rain means we can't play Quidditch!" Harry and Ron said in unison. Ron was now fully dressed and walked over and sat beside Harry on the sofa.

"You can play Quidditch any bloody day," Hannah said. "We need to be bonding not arguing. Especially you and Draco, Hermione, since you two were paired up and all."

Hermione took a deep, calming breath and sat down again. "She's right."

Pansy snorted. "Bonding? That's a good one. Tell me, Abbott, what do you suggest we all do?"

"Er…" Hannah hadn't thought her argument so far through. Nor did she realise that Pansy's question had been rhetorical. Luckily for her, other people raised suggestions.

"Well we could all play some other game," Padma said. "We've only ever discussed the competition when all sixteen of us have been here so it could be a laugh."

"How about an Exploding Snap tournament?" Susan suggested.

"Nah – Wizard's Chess is better," Ernie shouted.

"That's so boring," Mandy whined.

"Fine! Gobstones, then."

Another derisive snort turned everyone's attention to where the Slytherin girls were sat. Daphne tossed her long hair and crossed her arms before speaking.

"To force us all to play Happy Families is one thing, but the fact that you're coming up with such lame games is just pathetic. You do realise we're all of age now? We aren't six!"

Instead of arguing with her, the group seemed to take her words on board and suddenly a whole new array of suggestions were being put forward.

"Truth or dare!" Terry poked his head out from the boy's bathroom door as he re-entered the common room.

"Seven minutes in the broom cupboard!"

"Wizard's Chess drinking game!"

"_Veritaserum_ truth or dare!"

"Spin the Quill!"

So many ideas were being hurled into the fray that Hermione noticed a glimmer of interest reluctantly present itself on the faces of all of the Slytherins.

If these suggestions were enough to spark the interest of _them_, then Hermione could tell whatever game they were about to play couldn't end well.

_To be continued…_


	8. The Game

**A/N: **Hey everyone :) As ever, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! It's nice to see some of you back for this story after reading TW (Hey StarkidZoe :D) as well as some new people (I'd love to give you all shout-outs but I'd be afraid of missing someone out). But I love you all and I really appreciate your support.

This chapter is... interesting. ;D I think it's safe to say that the Dramione-ness kick-starts properly from here (again I apologise if you think it's been dragging a bit. But I'm trying to make it as believable as possible even though it's a non-canon pairing).

I'm almost done chapter 9 so you should hopefully get another update in a few days as usual.

Enjoy!

* * *

**8**

**:. The Game .:**

A few minutes later Anthony performed several spells to move the furniture of the living area to the sides of the room so everyone could sit in a circle to play Spin the Quill. Those who were already in a relationship were permitted to sit out, given the nature of the game, but Harry decided to remain in the circle nonetheless; he simply wouldn't take part if he were chosen.

Ernie and Padma sat in the circle too, declaring themselves as the judges for the game. Hermione reluctantly took her place, sitting up primly on her knees whilst resting on her haunches. She had little interest in participating, but she figured if she seemed willing to involve herself then it may persuade Ron to do the same and finally go through with the terms of their break. Plus, there was the added triumph of seeing Lavender's shocked expression after her previous 'prude' jibes.

Speaking of Lavender, it didn't surprise Hermione at all that she and Blaise seemed perfectly comfortable with taking part despite their frequent… activities together. She wondered how on earth anyone could be comfortable with doing such things in such a casual and meaningless way. It didn't make sense.

She watched Ron hesitate before squeezing between Harry and Justin in the circle. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt. Hermione's heart squeezed with guilt when she realised how awful this must feel for him. She didn't want to hurt him more than she already had done, so she stood and attempted to step out of the circle but she was dragged down by Mandy.

"Mione, please stay," she whispered. "I'm a bit nervous about doing this too so I figured we could suffer through this together," she said with a small smile.

"Mandy, it's not that I'm nervous but it's just that Ron-."

"Zabini, get your arse over here!" Pansy called over her shoulder. She and Daphne had also decided to join in, though they pretended that they were really opposed to the idea and were only participating because they felt obliged to do so.

Blaise sauntered out of his dorm and towards the circle, sitting between Draco and Pansy. He said nothing, but nodded pointedly at Draco, who smirked in amusement as if Blaise had just successfully carried out some kind of plan. Daphne suddenly seemed very uncomfortable, and was trying to get the attention of one of her housemates, but none of them noticed.

"Mm? Sorry, I didn't catch that," Mandy smiled.

"I said that nerves isn't the reason I don't want to-."

"All right!" Padma said authoritatively. "Take your seats ladies and gents."

"Damn it!" Hermione cursed under her breath and lowered herself to the floor again, shooting Ron an apologetic glance. He shrugged and nodded once. Thank Merlin he knew she was doing this unwillingly.

"So I'm just going to go through a brief explanation of the rules-."

"We bloody know the rules, Patil!" Pansy sighed.

"Um, not all of us," Hannah said meekly.

Pansy sneered slightly. "Amateurs," she said, examining her nails as Padma started speaking again.

"Okay, well, for those who haven't played before," the Ravenclaw continued. "We're going to use one of these trick quills from Zonko's for the game." She handed an ordinary-looking quill to Ernie, who placed it in the middle of the circle.

"Everyone will be blindfolded, I'll use my wand to spin the quill. It will shoot ink at a random boy and girl, who will then walk to the middle of the circle and well, kiss one another. Then they'd just remove the blindfolds and that's that. Questions?"

"God Padma, do you have to make everything so organised and boring?" Anthony teased.

She stuck her tongue out in response.

"What actually counts as a kiss in this game?" Mandy asked, blushing fiercely.

"Full on snog!" Blaise yelled. Daphne cringed and several others rolled their eyes.

"Er, I think that's taking it a bit far, Zabini," Ron said.

"Just a peck would do," Ernie shrugged. "But it would have to be on the mouth."

"You're all a bunch of pussies," Blaise sulked.

"Well if you want a snog so bad then just go for it. So long as the girl complies," Padma rolled her eyes. "Let's just say the minimum has to be a peck and the maximum if, like Blaise, you feel the need for a snog, will be a five seconds. Okay?"

Blaise lolled his head from side-to-side. "Bit more, Patil."

"Ten seconds, then. No more debates," Padma said.

Everyone murmured in agreement at this.

"Just saying Patil, if the ink from this trick quill stains my clothes I'll hex you once for each Galleon I paid for them."

Padma gulped, knowing that Pansy was unlikely to be joking.

"It's alright baby, she's showing so much cleavage in that top it's very unlikely to stain her clothes," Ernie whispered. Padma giggled, as did everyone who was in hearing range.

"I'll put a spell on it to make sure ink will only hit your hand or something," she said whilst trying not to let her amusement show. She summoned the quill and muttered incantations at it. "Just so you know, I'm also charming it so whoever gets chosen will be able to find one another, since you'd be wearing blindfolds and all."

"Where are we gonna get blindfolds?" Terry asked. "Hey Zabini, you sound like the kinky sort. Happen to have a stash of them with you?"

Everyone laughed.

"You've got some cheek, Boot," Blaise scowled. "But I do have a couple on me."

"You what?" Terry asked, surprised.

"Relax! They're for sleeping," Blaise said. "I'm so bloody used to the darkness in the Slytherin dorms that I'm not accustomed to sleeping when it's still light on summer nights in this place."

He sighed as everyone shared confused glances. No one was fully certain if Blaise was telling the truth or not. He rose to his feet and walked to his dorm, appearing a few second later and tossing two black blindfolds to Padma. "Here," he said. "You can duplicate them or something."

"You have your_ blindfolds_ monogramed?" Ron snorted as he was presented with his blindfold, which was adorned with a silver 'BZ'.

"'Course," Blaise shrugged as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about that.

Once the blindfolds were passed around to everyone (except Harry) and Ernie had gone around the circle checking everyone's were on properly (a task he very much enjoyed as it gave him the chance to make some choice hand gestures to the Slytherins without them knowing) a tense silence fell over the circle. All that could be heard was the sound of rain hammering on the roof.

"Okay, the quill is spinning," Padma's voice made Hermione jump. She had been caught up in a nervous daze. She'd never played something like this before, but the game had barely begun and she already hated it. Surely nobody could find amusement in such a tense atmosphere. She chewed her lip and scrunched her eyes shut even though she was wearing a blindfold, endlessly chanting in her head_, 'Not me, not me, not me, not me…'_

"And we have our first pair," Padma's voice said again when an age seemed to have passed. Hermione's shoulders slumped as a sense of relief washed over the group, and she felt her heart rate slow down to its normal pace.

The next several seconds passed very quickly, and Hermione felt herself relax even further. It wasn't so bad, especially as all she had to do was just one small peck to get her turn over with, if it ever came.

"And remove your blindfolds," Ernie said.

There was a rustle of movement and the room erupted with cheers, laughter and wolf-whistles as everyone's eyes fell upon Anthony and Mandy, who blushed at each other furiously when their eyes met.

"So, what kind of kiss did you guys go for?" Lavender prompted.

Neither of the Ravenclaws seemed willing to divulge.

"Fine," she trilled and turned her attention to the judges. "You or Harry must have seen; what was it like?"

"I think whatever happens in this game should be kept between whoever is chosen," Padma said. "If they want to tell you, then that's their choice."

"Boo," Lavender pouted. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Come of it Brown," Pansy said. "That was nowhere near ten seconds. I think we can assume from the time what happened."

"Oh," Ernie chewed his lip. "So the privacy is maintained, how about we do a ten-second countdown for everyone to prevent people assuming like that," he glanced at Pansy as he spoke.

"Fine," Pansy rolled her eyes. "But you, Potter and Patil can't look either if no-one else can know."

"How would you know if we look or not when you're wearing a blindfold?" Padma asked.

"Trust me. I'll know, Patil," Pansy said warningly, narrowing her eyes. She removed her wand from her pocket and twirled it threateningly between her fingers.

"Er okay fine we won't look," Ernie said, holding his hands up in surrender. "So Mandy and Anthony you can sit back down, and we'll get on with round two!"

The tense silence filled the room again, but after a couple more rounds (in which Blaise and Daphne were chosen along with Terry and Lavender) it seemed to be more a silence of anticipation rather than one of tension. Hermione actually found herself getting into the game. She was reassured by the fact everything would remain private to an extent, and that the game seemed to be working its magic in terms of making everyone bond.

But then she felt it: a splash of something hitting her left palm. All of a sudden the calmness went away and instant panic replaced it. She had apparently lured herself into a false sense of security after evading being selected thus far.

"Our next pair has been selected."

The words barely registered in Hermione's mind. She gulped and slowly rose to her feet and walked to the circle's centre as she was drawn by the spell put on the quill. A thought occurred to her as she stood, not really knowing if the other person was there yet. Could she get away with not kissing him at all? Now that Padma and Ernie weren't watching, nobody could possibly know. But then she felt a presence before her, and the distant voice of Ernie began counting down from ten.

"Ten."

Before Hermione could take a step backwards to avoid going through with it, she felt a clumsy hand touch and take hold of her shoulder as the other person tried to suss out where she was. She was trapped. Soon Hermione became aware of the boy's breathing getting closer and closer as he bent his head. There was no way she was escaping now.

_Crap._

She flinched in surprise when his nose came close to poking her in the eye. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when a pair of soft lips met hers, and a volcano seemed to erupt in the pit of her stomach. Her blood suddenly felt like it was on fire, and her heart hammered ferociously in her chest. Hermione's eyes snapped open behind the blindfold and she froze to the spot.

"Nine."

The boy was unperturbed by her hesitation and spurred on by applying more pressure to the kiss. The contact was firm but the kiss, tender. Hermione internally shrugged, conceding that ironically, this could help her in her decision about Ron; she already knew it wasn't him who was kissing her now.

She sighed and reached out blindly, her hand finding the boy's chest. She pressed against it lightly and kissed him back. It was the lightest of touches but enhanced the electric feeling a great deal. The heat from the hand that gripped her shoulder seemed to burn through the material of her shirt.

"Eight."

Hermione broke the kiss. She'd already done the maximum of what she intended to do: a peck. But then she felt a hand grip her other shoulder as the boy pulled her in again. She squeaked softly in surprise, and felt his mouth stretch into an amused smile against hers, which only made her blush more.

"Seven."

_How is time suddenly going so slow? _She thought. _It went by in a flash during all of the other rounds._

Her thoughts were chased from her mind when the smile fell from the boy's face, and he kissed her again. The feeling left Hermione breathless, and she felt her legs grow unsteady. This caused her to inadvertently lean further into the boy's chest.

"Six."

This movement obviously sent out the wrong message to him, as he seemed to deepen the kiss when he felt Hermione's body lean into his. Again, she tried to pull away, but he either didn't realise or deliberately decide not to acknowledge it.

"Five."

The hot blood pounding through Hermione's veins, and the tingle in her fingertips against the boy's exposed neck as her hand trailed upwards was too hard to ignore. Hermione didn't feel completely comfortable with the situation - given the circumstances - but she didn't feel as if her willpower would stretch so far as to break away for a third time either.

_Well, this _is _just going to stay between the two of us…_

"Four."

Allowing herself to act on pure impulse for a split second, Hermione moved her hands further to cup the back of his neck, and _she_ found herself being the one to deepen the kiss. Her fingers brushed against soft strands of hair near the base of his neck – a detail that did little to help her determine his identity.

"Three."

She almost squeaked again when she felt his tongue graze her lower lip. When this happened when she was with Ron she often found herself getting squeamish and pulling away. But this was different; Hermione didn't care. This whole experience felt so thrilling and exciting. She tried to tell herself it was because the blindfold was heightening her other senses, but her instinct wasn't convinced.

"Two."

Time was running out, and suddenly Hermione hated herself for pulling away earlier and wasting those milliseconds. She and this boy were verging on what Blaise described as a 'full-on snog'. And it was hardly as disgusting as it sounded to her initially.

She shivered when the boy's hands moved from her shoulders and up her neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps.

"One."

A hand moved to cradle her head, becoming tangled in her messy ponytail in the process. That's when he froze, and pulled away from her. Hermione suddenly felt cold in the areas where his hands had been, and the electric fire within her dwindled into nothing.

"Okay, remove your blindfolds."

Hermione chewed her lip, all of a sudden wishing she could run away into her dorm and never learn of the boy's identity. The kiss had been exactly like Ginny's descriptions, unlike the few she had previously shared with Ron, and that made her almost scared to learn who the boy was.

Shocked gasps sounded from all around her. This was the normal initial reaction in the game, so she didn't think much of it. But then the wolf-whistles and giggles started up. They sounded somewhat more intense than in previous rounds.

_Oh shit._

Hermione yanked her blindfold clumsily from over her ponytail and her head. She looked at the boy but didn't really see who it was to start with as her eyes hadn't adjusted to the light. She rubbed them and blinked a few times to re-focus.

She looked up slightly and was met with the face of-

"Holy shit! Hermione and Malfoy?" Susan exclaimed, her jaw almost hitting the floor. "Sorry for the language," she added.

As Hermione looked at Draco she was all too aware of fourteen sets of eyes watching her. The way Terry was wiggling his eyebrows made her paranoid that he had been watching, which was impossible since he had only just removed his blindfold. None of them could know that it hadn't just been a peck, but Hermione felt like they knew everything.

She felt suddenly ashamed of herself for going so far with it, but she couldn't help it. It was like her body was acting of its own accord.

"Fuck," Draco cursed, running a hand through his hair in anguish: hair that Hermione's fingers had just been tangled in…

She chewed on her lip hard at the exclamation. For one usually so nonchalant and composed, a reaction like that would undoubtedly give away the fact that it hadn't been just one kiss.

Then again, just kissing her at all would justify the reaction, she assumed.

"Oh you are _so_ not hearing the end of this," Blaise grinned slyly as Draco moved robotically back to his seat. His eyes were glazed over. He looked completely spaced out. When he sat down again he seemed to come to his senses again, and he scowled menacingly at Padma.

"Did you bloody rig this game, Patil?" he spat.

"Why would I do that?" she said. "Do you really think I'd do that to Hermione on purpose?"

"It's just that I recall you making a comment to Mack about thinking Granger and I posed a threat to you."

"You think I did this to sabotage you?" Padma scoffed. "Grow up. This was just meant to be a bit of fun."

"And it certainly delivered," Ernie grinned. "You know, you can sit down, Hermione."

"Mm? Oh, right," Hermione babbled mindlessly. The room felt like it was spinning. She stumbled back to her seat and immediately came face-to-face with Draco across the circle.

She couldn't quite believe that she had just kissed those lips that were now stretched into a sneer. Not only that: she had _liked_ kissing those lips.

Ron was clearly having a hard time processing it, too. His mouth was hanging open, and his eyes were darting between Hermione and Draco in disbelief. His gaze lingered on Hermione for a long while, and she made a show of wrinkling her nose in disgust. This seemed to calm his nerves a little, which was more than could be said for Hermione.

First there was the unexplained rush when she and Draco touched – a feeling that didn't occur with other boys – and now she realised that kissing him was equally as exhilarating. When she kissed Ron it felt like a friendly interaction, but the connection she felt with the Slytherin was something she had never experienced before. And that worried her.

Draco was now looking much more composed than he had been at the reveal, but on the inside his mind was whirring. As the quill span, and he put on his blindfold, the room becoming engulfed in darkness once more, all he could do was re-live was the memory of what had just happened.

He felt sick because he had just kissed the witch he disliked more than any other.

He felt sick because she was a Mudblood.

He felt sick because the kiss hadn't made him want to _be_ sick.

But above all, he felt sick because he remembered that moment she pulled away, and he immediately pulled her back in again because he didn't want the kiss to end.

Hindsight was such a bitch.

* * *

"HA! I win again!" Pansy yelled triumphantly, slamming her hand down onto the Exploding Snap cards in the centre of Blaise's bed.

The Slytherins often sought refuge by hanging out together in the boy's dorm: if only to restore a sense of companionship and normality between them than anything else. It had been an unspoken arrangement, but the four individuals went along without complaint. They were all secretly grateful for their gatherings for their own reasons, but all of them were still too proud and stubborn to say anything to the others.

The girls were sitting cross-legged on the bed facing one another; Blaise was perched on the dresser with his legs dangling in the air, and Draco was sat quite comfortably on the other side of the bed in one of the armchairs from the common room. Blaise had liberated it when Anthony had moved the furniture around for the game, and this achievement had been the cause of their earlier exchange of nods and smirks.

Pansy's expression fell. "What's up with you lot?"

Silence. Pansy frowned as she looked at all of her friends. All of them were staring blankly at nothing in particular with their heads bowed and evidently lost in their own thoughts.

"Hey!" she yelled. Everyone's heads snapped up. "What's going on? Ever since we played that game you've been acting like trolls."

"At least I don't look like a troll," Draco lifted his eyes but not his head, giving Pansy a half-hearted smirk.

"You smell like one, though," Pansy teased.

"Good one," Draco rolled his eyes.

"So…what?" Pansy went on. "You're all willingly accepting the fact that I won a round? What happened to those arguments we always seem to have where you lot claim I was cheating and blah blah blah?"

"Yes Parkinson, you won a bloody round. Congratulations." Draco spat. Losing a round of snap was the least of his problems.

"Is this about Granger?" Pansy sighed. "Because I think we're bloody even on the 'Who Got Humiliated The Most award'. I kissed that Justin prick. He's a Muggleborn too. Not to mention he's possibly being even more annoying than Granger lately."

Draco shrugged. "You don't have to work with him, though."

"Whatever. So what's up with you two?" Pansy looked at Daphne and Blaise. "May I say in advance that neither of you have the right to complain if it's about the game. At least you were put with each other. Although Daph had to kiss Weasley after that so I guess she has a right to be pissed."

Daphne bowed her head and twiddled her thumbs. Blaise bit his cheek. Then sighed.

"Weasley spilt butterbeer on my blindfold," he said quietly.

Pansy groaned, vastly exaggerating the eye-roll that followed. "Are you kidding? This is about a bloody blindfold?"

"It was really expensive, okay?" Blaise muttered. "And it was one of the originals."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"I just do, okay Pansy?" Blaise jumped off the dresser and took a step towards the dark-haired girl, his temper all of a sudden, flaring.

Daphne suddenly jumped to attention, rising from the bed and pushing her hands defensively against Blaise's chest, which was rising and falling rapidly.

"Woah, what is the matter with you? We can't start picking fights with each other! It's bad enough as it is, so I'd appreciate it if we can keep this group a solid unit. Merlin knows we'd all crumble without each other."

Blaise's anger suddenly drained away. He glanced down at Daphne's hands and abruptly moved from her grasp. He nodded an apologetic 'sorry' to Pansy, who reciprocated the gesture.

"Well as fun as this was I'm going to head to our room now, Daph," she said. "You coming?"

"Sure," Daphne smiled, following her out.

Once the door closed, Draco eyes Blaise suspiciously.

"What?"

"Come off it; you've got hundreds of those blindfolds at home. What's the harm of damaging one: even if it was the Weasel's fault?"

"What's your point?"

Draco arched a brow. "That wasn't the thing that was bothering you."

Blaise's body tensed, but his expression remained stoic. "How'd you figure that?"

"I'm very perceptive," Draco drawled.

"Yeah, and bloody arrogant," Blaise commented as he scooped up the cards.

"I'm right, though."

Blaise sighed. "Fine. Just don't you bloody dare say anything to-."

"I won't," Draco held his hands up. "I've had more than enough of my own crap to deal with today without getting involved with yours too."

Blaise chuckled. "Thanks."

Draco hauled himself up from the armchair and stooped over to his own bed. He didn't even bother changing before collapsing onto it. He rolled over away from Blaise and grunted when he came face-to-face with the wall, knowing that Hermione was only two rooms away from him.

He'd spent so many hours brooding over what had transpired earlier that night that Draco didn't have the energy to continue for much longer. He'd gotten over the initial shock by now, and all he had left was hindsight.

Draco recalled that the kiss hadn't felt clumsy or forced. It just… fit, and in some ways it filled him with a tangible sense of companionship that he'd gone without for so long. He'd become decidedly isolated over the last year or so, interacting only with his friends on a purely platonic level. He'd visited his mother on the odd occasion, but none of them included a hug, a kiss, or really, any physical sign of affection. Draco had thought he'd grown used to it, but after that kiss with Hermione, and the sudden empty feeling that followed when it ended, Draco realised just how disconnected he'd become from the world.

He now found himself in the unfortunate predicament of craving more, if only for selfish purposes. As he drifted off to sleep, he sub-consciously began replaying the memory of the kiss over and over again, until finally, at some point during the night, Draco's arm stretched out towards the wall, as if accommodating another person who was not there.

Two rooms away, Hermione rolled over towards the wall, stretching out her arm too.

* * *

"So was it just a peck?" Ron asked after he followed Hermione into the kitchenette as she made some toast.

She sighed. "Ron, that is the umpteenth time you've asked me that since yesterday. I don't want to talk about it." And she really meant that. "It's embarrassing enough as it is."

"But you can't use the 'break ' thing against me here," he pointed out. "Even as just friends, you know I'd be asking you this stuff."

"You have a point," Hermione said, dragging the butter towards her. "But you wouldn't be this persistent."

She cringed as she buttered the toast. It seemed she couldn't do anything now without thinking about Draco. And that kiss. That awfully wonderful kiss. She shuddered and faced Ron. "Look, does it even matter to what extent I kissed him? I mean, let's just say that it was more than just a peck: would you want to know the details?"

Ron grimaced.

"That's what I thought," Hermione smiled. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"Crookshanks is dead?" Ron wasn't quite able to disguise the happiness in his voice.

Hermione brandished the butter knife at him. "Be nice to Crookshanks. What's he ever done to you? Apart from try and eat your rat: which, if he had succeeded, would have maybe prevented Voldemort from returning to power in the first place."

Ron looked very sheepish.

"Anyway, it was just a Muggle saying," Hermione said, taking a bite of her toast. "It means that sometimes you're better off not knowing everything. Plus, you ended up kissing Daphne in the game after I kissed Malfoy, so I guess we're even."

"What's a cat got to do with that?" Ron frowned.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione smiled. She tried not to react too much when she saw Draco exit his dormitory. He was stretching and flattening his bed-hair so hadn't noticed her yet, so she decided to make an exit whilst she could. "I think I'm going to eat this in my room," she said, scurrying away and leaving a bemused Ron watching after her.

He just shrugged and walked over to the wooden chairs and tables, where Harry was sitting and staring out of the window.

"You alright?" Ron asked, slumping into the seat opposite him.

"Not bad, you?"

"Not bad."

Harry smiled. "You wanna tell me what's up?"

"I think you already know, mate," Ron sighed.

"Mione and Malfoy?"

Ron nodded.

"That's what I thought," Harry said, his attention still focused on the view.

"Oh Merlin, not you too," Ron groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I know what you're going to say: she and Malfoy have hated each other forever and now they're being forced to work together so it's only natural that she's acting weird now after last night."

"Well yeah," Harry turned to face him. "But hasn't it occurred to you that she could be acting weird because she feels guilty? That game yesterday could have been good for you two. She wanted to know if she had real feelings for you, and if she felt guilty about kissing someone else, then you shouldn't really be worrying at all."

"But when I had to kiss Daphne, I stopped as soon as I realised it wasn't Mione. It barely lasted two seconds, and she keeps avoiding giving me a straight answer when I ask about what happened with Malfoy. It's like she's hiding something."

"Ron, answer me something. Truthfully." Harry said. He hated seeing Ron so worked up all the time. "For those two seconds, did kissing Daphne feel different to kissing Mione?"

"Well of course it did!" Ron exclaimed incredulously. "They're bloody different people. Not to mention that I don't think very highly of Daphne."

"You had a blindfold on," Harry pointed out. "You wouldn't have known you were kissing someone you didn't like."

Ron pursed his lips and thought hard for a while. "You know, it did feel different. It wasn't like bloody fireworks and birds singing and all that crap, but… it was like it felt with Lavender on that first day." He sighed. "Bloody hell, she was right wasn't she? Maybe we just are only meant to be friends."

"She normally is right," Harry agreed. "What are you going to do?"

"I dunno," Ron said. "But I've fancied Mione for so long that I think we should at least try and make a proper go at dating. If I have to compete with the ferret then so be it."

Harry groaned. "No one is competing with anybody, alright?"

"But-."

"No," Harry warned. "You won't be competing with anyone because you and Mione are supposed to be just friends for this month: if you keep going on about Malfoy to her then you're only hurting your own chances when she has to make a decision. Secondly, what the hell does Malfoy have that you don't?"

Ron shrugged. "He's rich, he's smart, he's-."

"Not a nice person," Harry said flatly. "He's arrogant, immature and condescending. And that's not even me talking: Hermione has described him as those things herself many times in the past."

"That's true," Ron said. "I'll try and stop over-reacting. Sorry about going on about this to you all the time."

Harry just nodded and returned his attention to the view. He had a serious headache. Trying to play Cupid for Ron and Hermione was more mentally draining than battling Death Eaters.

"Here, you fancy a game of Exploding Snap?" Ron asked.

"Go on then," Harry smiled. "Let's just hope no-one's hair gets singed this time."

As Ron began to deal out cards, Susan appeared in the doorway. "Hey everyone, the next task is happening in like two minutes. We need to get down to the Great Hall."

"You're bloody joking," Ron moaned.

"Sorry," Susan shrugged.

Ron threw the cards onto the table and stood up. He squealed and jumped to the side in shock when they all exploded at once.

"What was that, Weasley?" Pansy cackled. "You scream like a girl."

Ron scowled. "I do not! It's just, you know, I wasn't expecting that."

"Sure," Pansy rolled her eyes. "See you down there."

Ron leaned closer to Harry and whispered. "Please tell me I don't scream like a girl."

"Just then, you didn't," Harry replied, and Ron sighed in relief. "But you kind of did in second year when we went to the Forbidden Forest."

"Oi," Ron said, giving Harry a light shove. "Did you not see how many spiders there were? Not just any spiders: Acormantula! Thousands of 'em. Trying to eat us!" He suddenly turned a very pale colour.

Harry laughed. "Yes it's funny that after surviving such an ordeal you're still terrified of regular house spiders."

"I'm not," Ron protested.

"Really?" Harry frowned. "Actually, no I believe you. I mean there's been one sitting on your shoulder this whole time and-."

Ron squealed again and started slapping at his shoulder and spinning around in circles as he tried to catch a glimpse of the spider that didn't exist.

Harry just watched him with raised eyebrows.

Eventually Ron realised it was a joke. He clutched his chest. "Blimey Harry, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

"So what was that you were saying about not being scared of regular spiders?"

"I'm not! … Well, I'm not as bad as I used to be."

Harry laughed and the two of them headed for the door.

"Did you see Hermione leave her room?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry replied. He and Ron stopped as they passed her dorm and knocked.

"Come in," she called.

Ron poked his head around her door. "Mione, the next task is starting."

She instantly felt her stomach drop. "Are you serious? Now?"

"Yeah," Ron said.

She groaned. "Fantastic," she said dryly, swinging her legs off her bed and walking over. Why did this have to happen today of all days?

She could only pray that Draco was feeling co-operative today.

"Has everyone gone down?" she asked when she stepped into an empty common room.

"I think so," Harry said. "Although I'm not sure Zabini and Malfoy know yet. They grabbed some food and disappeared into their dorm."

Hermione hesitated. She didn't want her partner to turn up late – something that could act against them – but she really didn't want to talk to Draco, either.

"I'm going to let them know," she said. It was more a command to herself than just a passing statement. She was going to have to talk to Draco during this task anyway, so she may as well start now.

She banged on their door and opened it before they answered.

"Woah – boundaries Granger," Blaise jumped up and wrapped his duvet around his lower half. His navy shirt was half buttoned, and he was clearly in the middle of getting dressed.

"Crap – sorry!" Hermione shielded her eyes. Behind her, Harry and Ron wrinkled their noses in disgust.

"Relax," Blaise sneered at Harry and Ron. "I _am_ wearing underwear, you know."

"I'm just letting you know that we need to be in the Hall for the next task." Hermione babbled.

She heard Draco snort. "What is this, a bloody Gryffindor peep show?"

Hermione cringed. He was evidently still sore about what happened the night before. This was just what she needed when she actually needed him to be civil.

"Right, sorry," Hermione pulled the door closed but Ron put a hand against it, stopping her.

"Is that one of the chairs from the common room?" He demanded, looking completely baffled.

Hermione snapped to attention and lowered her hands. Sure enough, Draco was sitting in one of the armchairs.

"Put that back in there right now!" she said. "Those chairs are for everyone!"

"My, my, aren't you a bossy one?" Blaise chuckled. "I almost feel sorry for you, mate," he said to Draco, who just curled a lip in response.

"Just leave it, Zabini," Ron said, jumping to Hermione's defence.

"And why don't you just leave?" Blaise indicated to the door.

Hermione pointed a finger at the dark-skinned boy and prepared to continue her rant when Draco flicked his wand and the door slammed in her face, just as it had done a few days ago.

"Well that went well," she said.

"Yeah, I don't think that was the best time to lay into them about the chair," Harry said.

"I suppose," Hermione chuckled. "Let's just go without them."

Just as the three friends reached the exit, they heard a door open behind them. Hermione turned.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, nice observation, Granger," he drawled.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Zabini's taking the piss and I didn't want to be late for the task," he shrugged, doing everything in his power not to look at Hermione. Distance and normality is what he was determined to maintain.

"Why do you care so much?" Ron inquired. "You've never given a toss about being late to stuff before."

"You're wasting time by this pointless questioning," Draco said coldly. "Let's just go."

"Er, right," Hermione said, walking past Harry and Ron and taking the lead down to the Great Hall. She chewed her lip, and could only hope that Draco felt as uncomfortable as she did. Judging by his expression, she needn't worry.

_To be continued…_


	9. The Understanding

**A/N: **I'm really sorry this chapter's been delayed. This has been one of those awkward ones where I keep thinking I should add stuff/ take it out/ change it every time I go to proofread it so apologies: it should have been up about 4 days ago.

Okay, so this task is pretty standard, though I've already planned the third (evil laugh). Can I say a massive thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter eight. I think that's my most-reviewed chapter so far! (Also thank you _HOAlover4life_ for taking the time to review every chapter :D) I know some of you were hoping for seven minutes in the broom cupboard but there's a reason it was spin the quill. (Plus seven minutes in the broom cupboard could have gone very steamy very easily :P)

Enjoy!

* * *

**9**

**:. The Understanding .:**

"Good morning, everyone," Dumbledore greeted them once Blaise had sloped into the room. Lavender automatically attached herself to him but he jiggled her off and thrust his hands in his pockets, a clouded and brooding expression on his face.

"Have all the Slytherins woken up on the wrong side of the bed today, or what?" Ron mumbled to Harry.

"Welcome to your next test of the system." The headmaster turned, moving his hand in a sweeping motion at the back of the Hall, where nine podiums appeared. Eight were arranged in a semi-circle, and the ninth faced them. A mischievous twinkle entered Dumbledore's eyes.

The candidates who had been brought up by Muggles knew exactly what the kind of format this next test would be.

Justin groaned slightly. "Is this going to be like a game show, sir? Like _Mr and Mrs_?"

Hermione groaned. Somehow she thought Justin was on the right tracks with his guess. Ron looked sideways at her for clarification, but she just waved a hand of dismissal, telling him that Dumbledore should explain everything.

"Can someone tell me what a bloody game show is?" Daphne spoke on behalf of most of the others.

"That is something that may take a lot of time to explain to Purebloods such as yourself, Miss Greengrass," Professor McGonagall said calmly.

"Are you saying we're too dumb to understand Muggle things?" Pansy asked.

"Yes," Justin mumbled under his breath, and a few people giggled.

"Thank you, Mr Fletchley," McGonagall shot Justin a stern look. "And no Miss Parkinson, that was not my implication. The concept of a game show would require you all to have basic knowledge of several appliances of Muggle technology, and frankly, we do not have time for a Muggle Studies lesson right now."

"It's not like we paid attention in that class, anyway," Pansy conceded.

The Gryffindor Head-of-House gestured for the headmaster to continue his explanation of the task. Dumbledore nodded to her before addressing the sixteen candidates. "I think the explanation that the game of _Mr and Mrs_ is a quiz would suffice," he said.

A sense of comprehension spread throughout the group.

"What kind of quiz, sir?" Terry asked. "It isn't like school work like the Potions test was, is it?"

Dumbledore chucked. "No, no, Mr Boot. If you take into account the name of the game show Mr Finch-Fletchly mentioned, it shouldn't take long for bright wizards and witches such as yourselves to work out."

Almost unanimously, the penny dropped.

"It's a quiz about our partners." Hermione worded this as a statement rather than a question.

"Absolutely right, Miss Granger," Dumbledore smiled. "If you recall, you were all delivered with a piece of parchment a couple of nights ago-."

"Oh no! I hardly looked at the thing," Susan said to Anthony.

"Me neither," he replied, a worried expression on his face.

"I only looked at it for two minutes," Ron groaned.

"I didn't look at mine for much longer," Harry sighed.

"I didn't even _see_ my parchment!" Lavender wailed.

Dumbledore held up a hand as he requested silence. "As some of you may recall: anything left unexplained must be treated as a test within itself. 'What purpose does a mere list of random facts about my partner have to do with anything?' – you may ask. The answer is quite simple. Respect. That is a key part of any relationship, and it is one that is integral for a Head Boy and Girl pairing who must promote inter-house unity in the school."

"So how well we do on this quiz is a demonstration of how much time we took to read about our partners, and therefore shows how much we respect them?" Anthony asked.

"You are correct, Mr Goldstein." Dumbledore smiled. "The other professors and I took into account that some of these partnerships already have a foundation of friendship, whilst some others do not have that advantage," the headmaster glanced at the Gryffindors and Slytherins as he said this. "That is why we opted to create a list of more obscure facts: it makes the playing field much more even, and the results, more reliable."

Hermione chanced a glance at Draco. His face was a complete blank, as usual. She didn't know what the hell he was thinking or feeling in that moment. All she could do was pray that some of those facts about her sunk into his brain in that fleeting ten minutes she saw him with the parchment. Then she remembered something he'd told her: 'my brain has a habit of easily forgetting conversations with you…'

A test of this description really couldn't have been done at a worse time.

"Now, I think that's enough briefing," Dumbledore said, walking over to the lone podium facing the semi-circle. "Please stand at a podium with your partner."

Hermione really didn't know what to expect as she walked over and stood at a podium in-between Ron and Harry. The Slytherins took a decidedly long time to join their respective partners. This was with the exception of Blaise, who strode over to Lavender and wrapped his arms around her waist, seemingly over his mood swing. She giggled manically, and the girls – Hermione and Daphne in particular – rolled their eyes.

"Mr Zabini, there is a time and a place," McGonagall warned.

"Sorry Professor," Blaise said, though it was evident that he was not sorry at all.

"Now then," Dumbledore said once everyone was stood at a podium. "I will rotationally go around the pairs, beginning here," he gestured to Ernie and Padma, who were directly at his left, "and going around the circle to Miss Brocklehurt and Mr Fletchley on my right, and repeat. Both of you will be asked a question about your partner. You will score a point for every correct answer, and your score will be unchanged with every incorrect answer. You will receive a combined total for both of your individual scores. Quite simply, you will be ranked from one to eight based on your total pair score at the end. There will be no conferring: be that verbally or by magic, tolerated. Any interaction with your partner before an answer is given when it's your turn will result in disqualification."

"Suits me," Draco muttered from beside Hermione as Professors Snape and McGonagall began skulking back and forth behind the podiums, apparently the invigilators in this task.

Hermione held her arms close against her body. The podiums were really quite small – there was barely enough room for two of them to stand behind it at once, and if she held herself normally she'd end up going through the entire test with arm-to-arm contact with Draco. And that would do little to aid her concentration, given the circumstances.

"What are you doing?" Draco's voice came again. "Even the way you stand is uptight."

"Shush," Hermione hissed without looking at him. "Do you want us to get disqualified?"

His answer caught her completely off guard. "No."

Before she could press him on this, Dumbledore spoke again. "Oh, and one more thing. Bonus points may be awarded if you can supply more information than what is asked."

"What?" several people whispered, looking around in confusion. Nobody did get an answer, as Dumbledore turned to Ernie and Padma.

It was then that Hermione noticed a smoky number zero floating above all of the pairs' heads. It must be the same spell that was used in the very first task for the countdown clock.

"Miss Patil," Dumbledore said. "What form does Mr Macmillan's patronus take?"

"A boar," Padma replied, knowing that fact easily from the D.A. meetings.

"Mack can make a patronus?" Draco whispered haughtily.

"Yes," Hermione hissed back whilst trying to move her mouth as little as possible. "Jealous?"

"As if I'd be jealous of a Powderpuff."

_So that's a yes, then, _Hermione thought, smirking to herself.

"Very good," Dumbledore smiled as the smoke above Ernie and Padma's podium twisted around to form a number one. "Now, Mr Macmillan, how far apart was Miss Patil born from her sister, Parvati?"

"Er…" Ernie scratched his head. "I know the numbers but I just don't know which way around they go. Oh dammit…"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to push you," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Padma is older by twenty minutes. She was born at ten-past-one in the morning. I think," Ernie said slowly.

"Whilst you were correct about the time difference, Miss Patil here was in fact born at twelve-fifty, ten _to_ one, in the morning. I'm afraid I can't award you bonus points there."

The smoke shifted to form a number two, and Hermione realised what Dumbledore meant about providing extra information. He never specifically asked what time Padma was born, but Ernie volunteered the information, anyway.

The next pair was Ron and Pansy.

"Miss Parkinson, what is Mr Weasley's middle name?" Dumbledore asked.

"Pfft," Pansy scoffed and started laughing. "Bilius," she spluttered.

"Correct. Mr Weasley, what was Miss Parkinson's favourite past-time as a child?"

Ron shrugged. His brows furrowed in deep thought for a while. "Riding on her pet unicorn?" he asked with a roll of his eyes. "Sorry I've got nothing."

"Idiot," Pansy muttered.

"Incorrect. The answer was in fact knitting with her mother."

Pansy's cheeks turned scarlet. She scowled at the headmaster as the Hall descended into laughter.

"Knitting?" Daphne spluttered. "Like, what old ladies do?"

Dumbledore signalled for silence again. The students all clamped their lips together in an attempt to prevent a bubble of laughter from escaping. This proved very difficult for many of them.

"You shouldn't be ashamed, Miss Parkinson," Dumbledore said. "I am quite fond of knitting patterns myself."

"Gee, that makes me feel so much better," Pansy rolled her eyes.

The headmaster decided not to respond to the sarcastic remark and turned his attention to Hermione and Draco, leaving a smoky number one above Pansy and Ron's heads.

All of a sudden, Hermione didn't find the mental image of Pansy knitting so amusing. She gulped and silently prayed that this test wouldn't be a total disaster for her and Draco.

"Mr Malfoy,"

Draco grunted. "Yeah?"

"What was Miss Granger's first pet?"

Hermione groaned. She caught sight of the wicked smirk cross Draco's pale face in her peripheral vision.

Draco cleared his throat. "Tiddles the hamster," he proclaimed loudly just to add to Hermione's embarrassment.

Quiet snickers rippled around the semi-circle.

"And what a fine name that was. Very witty. I believe Granger's reasoning for that name was because said hamster frequently relieved its bladder."

More laughter. Hermione leaned with her elbows on the podium and buried her face in her hands.

"Eurrrrrghh," she drawled slowly.

"Correct, Mr Malfoy. And well done for supplying more information," Dumbledore nodded to Draco, watching as the smoke formed a number two above him and Hermione.

Hermione suddenly shot up. They were level with Ernie and Padma, and Draco had given a _correct _answer. She guessed that he made a point to learn the embarrassing information off by heart to use against her, but in that moment she was in no way complaining.

"Now, Miss Granger," Dumbledore went on. "The coat of what kind of animal was accidentally turned pink by Mr Malfoy when he was a child?"

"A crup," Hermione answered without hesitation. Then she blushed. She responded so abruptly that everyone would think she actually sat down and revised the fact sheet; which she did do but only because she thought there'd be some purpose to it. Not because she wanted to know about Draco…

"_Hercules_, the crup," she elaborated. There was a name she'd never forget in a hurry.

"Again, spot on!" The smoke twirled above them and formed a number four. Hermione and Draco both looked up and watched this happen. Their eyes lowered and fell on each other at the same time. Both sets of eyes widened and snapped away, out of embarrassment and denial to what happened the previous night.

Both of them kept a passive expression as the other candidates turned to look at them with raised eyebrows. Hermione could almost physically feel the gazes of Harry and Ron on either side of her. She was determined not to show a reaction that she and Draco were actually winning at a test about respect when they only knew the answers to the questions to spite the other.

"Now Mr Potter," Dumbledore turned away, and Hermione relaxed a little as Harry did the same. "Which English county was Miss Greengrass born in?"

"Er…" Harry scratched the back of his head. He honestly had no clue. "Shropshire?" he sighed with a shrug.

"Oxfordshire, you uneducated prat." Daphne scoffed.

"Oops," Harry said.

"Never mind," Dumbledore smiled at Harry. "Now Miss Greengrass, how did Mr Potter receive his Hogwarts letter?"

"By owl," Daphne said, wondering what other means of delivering the letter existed.

"Again, that is incorrect," Dumbledore, sighed. "It was in fact delivered personally by Professor Hagrid."

"Fascinating," Daphne said dryly. "You had to get bloody special treatment, didn't you, Potter?"

Draco snickered beside Hermione so she elbowed him in the ribs. She was pretty sure McGonagall had been passing at that same moment, but the Professor did nothing to scold her. Hermione smirked. Draco scowled at her.

The play turned to Lavender and Blaise, who answered with ridiculously mushy and stupid answers, earning them no points too. Daphne and Harry were in Hermione's view as she watched Lavender and Blaise. She noticed that the blonde witch obviously had a disliking to Lavender too. That was one redeeming quality about her, Hermione concluded.

The first round of questions passed, and as play reached Hermione and Draco again, they were drawing in second place with Terry and Hannah, and two points behind Ernie and Padma, who'd just had their second set of questions.

"Mr Malfoy, what is Miss Granger's favourite colour?"

Draco bit his cheek. He had an inkling that he knew the answer, but he couldn't quite tell if he was just imagining things, so he went for the safe option. "Red?"

"I'm afraid the correct answer is green," Dumbledore replied.

"Really?" Draco glanced sideways and smirked widely at Hermione, who rolled her eyes at him. Apparently his hunch _had_ been right, all along.

"Shut up, Malfoy. That doesn't mean anything," she said haughtily. "Green has been my favourite colour since I was little."

"Still, I bet you lie to your Gryffindork mates and say it's red as a cover up," Draco drawled, hoping to wind her up even more.

"Why, Mr Malfoy, you are correct in that instance," Dumbledore smiled after perusing the long roll of parchment on his podium. The number above Hermione and Draco changed to five.

The smirk fell from Draco's face. Either that was just a coincidence, or his brain had actually absorbed more information that his conscious mind wanted to let on.

"Now, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said.

Hermione tore her suspicious gaze away from Draco and looked forwards. "Yes, sir?"

"What career did Mr Malfoy aspire to have as a child?"

Hermione felt her stomach drop. She must have completely missed this particular fact when she was reading through them all.

'_How is that even possible? I read everything on there at least five times. There was nothing about a career on there. Unless… oh crap, the thing must have been bloody double-sided!'_

She couldn't believe she made such a rookie mistake! She was the girl who checked the very back page and looked for hidden flaps with extra questions on every exam paper – twice!

Hermione conceded that she'd just have to make an educated guess with this one. Draco was a boy, and boys like Quidditch. "He, er, wanted to be a Quidditch player?" she guessed. Just then, the conversation from the previous night drifted into her thoughts. She shrugged; if she was going to be wrong, she may as well go for broke. "A Seeker for the Tornadoes."

"Correct, and correct again, Miss Granger." Their score changed to a seven.

"What?" Hermione blinked. She didn't quite know how to process what was happening. Whilst Draco's luck derived from making fun of her, it seemed to be working. If that wasn't ironic, she didn't know what was.

Harry and Daphne managed to get two points when it was their turn, with Daphne knowing Harry's star-sign and Harry correctly guessing that Daphne's favourite genre of fiction books was romance. In fact, everyone seemed to do well in the second round: even Ron and Pansy managed to get a point. The next round, however, was quite different. No pair got any more than two points – even with Draco's taunting methods and Hermione's wild guesses -, but by the end, they were still in third place behind Terry and Hannah and Justin and Many, but in front of Ernie and Padma.

When it was their turn in the fourth round of questions, there came a moment where they looked at each other, and silently came to the realisation that they could actually win this. Both of their competitive natures got the best of them after their poor performance in round three, and they began taking the task very seriously.

"What is the first name of Mr Malfoy's paternal grandfather?"

"Abraxas!" Hermione shouted.

"Now, now, Miss Granger, there's no need to shout," Snape muttered as he passed by.

"I'm sor-!" Hermione inadvertently started shouting again, too caught up in the contest. She blushed when she saw Snape arch a disapproving brow at her. "Oh, I mean, I'm sorry," she said forcibly calmly.

Behind Hermione and Draco's backs, Harry and Ron looked at each other and exchanged smirks. They were both very aware of the frustration she had if she didn't win something, and both knew that Draco would take the brunt of it should they fail to place high at the end of the task.

Suffice it to say, both Gryffindors were hoping to see Hermione hex the blond one or twenty times. And that seemed very likely by the time the fifth and final round came about: they had slipped into fourth place behind Ernie and Padma, and Harry and Ron knew that in Hermione's eyes, fourth was worse than second or third.

Sure enough, Hermione had started shuffling from foot-to-foot and chewing her fingernails. Draco's stance remained poised and calm but he tensed up when he was asked his next question.

"Mr Malfoy, what is Miss Granger's favourite fruit?"

It was Draco's subconscious that allowed him to answer with ease, even if it was only a guess. The scent of her shampoo drifted into his nostrils, instantaneously taking him back to the previous night. He permitted himself one guilty and self-loathing second to get lost in the thought before answering.

"Strawberries."

"Correct."

Draco smirked, and Hermione shot him a curious glance. It could easily be misconstrued as one of pride at his correct answer, but she still felt a little on edge, and not just because they were still in fourth place.

"They're both as bad as each other," Daphne muttered with a roll of her eyes as she followed Harry's gaze out of curiosity.

On the other side of Hermione and Draco, Pansy rolled her eyes too. It seemed that Draco had gotten over his strop the previous night as she recalled how accepting he'd been of her Exploding Snap win then. Now he was back to his 'sore-loser' self. Oh well, she thought. Better Granger to be on the receiving end of his temper than her.

Hermione and Draco, both caught up in their individual missions to do well, had completely forgotten whom it was they were working with. They were successful in overtaking Padma and Ernie again, if only by one point, and were consequently level with Justin and Mandy. They were kept waiting on tenterhooks for the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw to answer their questions for what seemed like an age. When Justin and Mandy received no points at all, Draco quietly said, "We're joint-second, Granger."

Although Hermione already knew this to be true, she didn't want to believe it until Dumbledore waved his hand, causing the smoke above everyone's heads to swirl together in the centre of the semi-circle, forming a scoreboard.

'_First: Boot/ Abbott (15) _

_= Second: Malfoy/ Granger (13)_

_= Second: Finch-Fletchley/ Brocklehurst (13)_

_Fourth: Macmillan/ Patil (12)_

_Fifth: Potter/ Greengrass (10)_

_Sixth: Goldstein/Bones (9)_

_= Seventh: Weasley/ Parkinson (7)_

_= Seventh: Zabini/ Brown (7)'_

The podiums vanished and a chatter of excitement and disappointment rang amongst the pairs. Hermione beamed and instinctively turned to Draco and threw her arms around his neck, that familiar buzz of heat welcoming her. She was still caught up in her detached daze until he stiffened in her arms and didn't react. Only then did the fog clear, and Hermione remembered who he was and what she was doing. She quickly let go of him, and cast her eyes away from him to avoid looking at the death-glare that he'd surely be shooting her way.

Luckily, most of the others didn't notice, as they were celebrating – or brooding over – their standings in the task.

"Hey sir, I don't think this was very fair," Pansy said to Dumbledore. "We would have done much better if we knew we'd need to know that stuff on the parchment."

"On the contrary, Miss Parkinson, if you were informed that the parchment had a purpose, everyone would have learnt the facts on their partners because they had to, not because they chose to. Do not fret; there are more tests to come, and your performance in the previous Potions task may affect your overall standings. Not to mention, consistency with what everyone scored in each round will be taken into account as well as the overall total."

Whilst Pansy was distracted, Ron looked over at Hermione and Draco, having witnessed the hug. He was unable to catch Hermione's eye, though, as she was standing with her back to him, and Draco was still stood rigidly to the spot, as if he was unsure what to do. Ron managed to catch Harry's eye again.

Harry just shrugged, and mouthed one sentence to his friend.

'Don't worry about it.'

This did little to help Ron. All he could do was worry about it. But he couldn't say anything to Hermione because she'd think he was over-reacting or badgering her too much about Malfoy. Ron just stood and chewed his lip, wondering what he should do.

* * *

Draco rolled over in bed for what felt like the thousandth time. He could tell that he had a severe case of bed-hair, and he was beginning to feel light-headed from all of the movement. These two things only made him angrier with himself that he couldn't fall asleep even though he felt very tired. It was a lost cause, really: the more frustrated he became, the less sleepy he felt.

He wasn't so much frustrated at the fact that he couldn't sleep as he was about the _reason_ why he couldn't sleep when he'd been out like a candle in the wind last night. As much as he internally yelled at himself, repeatedly saying that it was down to the muggy weather and the stuffy dormitory, his brain remained unconvinced.

'_Well, what else can it be?' _

'_There must be something on your mind…'_

'_Right. Like what?'_

'_Perhaps something that you consciously haven't thought about.'_

'_Shut up.'_

'_Or someone…'_

'_I'm going to kill you.'_

'… _I _am_ you.'_

Draco scoffed and rubbed his eyes. He was going insane; having an argument with himself. He definitely needed some air. Maybe if he paced the common room for long enough he'd start to feel drowsy.

He hauled himself into a sitting position and stretched before swinging his legs off the bed and padding across to the door. A backwards glance at Blaise almost made Draco consider the possibility that it was his friend's snoring that had kept him awake. But he'd been sharing a room with him since first year, so that was hardly a legitimate reason.

He swung the door open at exactly the same time someone else did a couple of rooms down from him. Hermione yipped loudly in shock. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Malfoy? Merlin you nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Shame," Draco said, though his voice lacked any malice or meaning behind the word: due to the tiredness, he told himself. Or at least, tried to.

"Shut up," Hermione frowned, "What are you doing up?"

"Can't sleep, if you must know. You?"

"I need a drink," Hermione said groggily.

"Again? Seriously, just take a glass to bed with you." Draco suddenly felt very conscious of the fact that he was only wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms, and made his escape from Hermione. He walked over to one of the sofas and sat down so that his back was to her.

Hermione stood there for a moment, not really knowing what she should do following the kiss from the night before and the accidental hug a few hours ago. Should she just ignore him, or would that let on that those things had been invading her thoughts and making her feel awkward?

Eventually she gave in and said something as she walked to the kitchenette. The least she could do was try and ascertain how he was feeling about it all.

"That's some nice bed-hair you've got," she said, noticing how blond tufts were sticking up in all directions on the back of Draco's head.

He turned slightly and arched an eyebrow. "Really Granger? I'm getting 'bed-hair' remarks from _you_? Yours look like an owl's nest that's been caught in a storm."

Hermione sighed. Much to her annoyance, she couldn't really argue: he was right. She's tied her hair up into a fishtail plait before bed, but of course, her hair came undone during the few hours she'd been asleep, which, when coupled with the humidity, only made it frizz out even more than usual. Nevertheless, she felt she now had the right to have a dig back at him, to maintain what was left of normality between them.

"Well, your bed-hair reminds me of what Harry's looks like during the day," she said coolly as she filled a glass with water.

Draco narrowed his eyes, but Hermione caught the beginnings of a smirk tilting his lips upwards before he coughed, stopping himself.

"Don't ever compare me to Potter, Granger. Ever," he said darkly, suddenly speaking in a very low tone as opposed to his usual arrogant one. It was almost as if a thought or a memory had drifted to the front of his mind, and Hermione couldn't help but be curious.

A pregnant pause stretched between them. Hermione wasn't entirely sure whether she should just go back to her room, and perhaps try and get some answers from him when he wasn't half-naked. But at the same time, she felt like she had to take this opportunity: nobody else was around and he didn't seem like he was going back to bed any time soon.

She gingerly walked over to her usual armchair with her water, which just so happened to be right opposite the sofa where Draco sat. She inwardly groaned; his body was in full-view, and it wasn't good (the situation, that is; not him).

She drummed her fingertips on the arm and chewed her lip, still unable to make up her mind about what she should do.

"Is there a reason why you're still here, Granger? I know I'm attractive but this is just too obvious. You really are transparent."

Hermione did a double take and curled her lip slightly. "Get over yourself, Malfoy."

Draco just smirked. _Git, _Hermione thought.

"Okay then, enlighten me. Why are you still here?" Draco drawled.

"Sorry about you know, hugging you, earlier," she said, blushing. "I don't know what came over me. I suppose that I got too caught up in the fact that we were actually doing well in the task."

Her answer seemed to catch Draco completely off guard, but he composed himself. As usual. "Yes, that was one shock after another for me," he commented, lounging back against the back of the chair. "You need to learn some boundaries."

"Yes, well, I'm sor-"

"_Don't,"_ Draco said sharply. "Don't mention it, Granger. Seriously."

Hermione frowned. "Malfoy, don't start. I know what you're going to say."

Draco merely looked across at her and arched a brow expectantly.

Hermione sighed. "I know you still have issues against people like me," she said flatly. "You said so yourself on the very first day. And I get that; it's impossible to undo years of being taught about all that Pureblood supremacy stuff."

Draco regarded her steadily. "Right. Let's just say for argument's sake that I am having issues with someone like you hugging me like that. Then what?"

"Then, I can only be grateful that you didn't push me away and call me a Mudblood. Don't get me wrong, I'd still think you're a complete self-righteous, insufferable, bigoted pig if that's what's bothering you so much about the hug, but I can see that you're trying to change, or at least mask your prejudices for my sake. And that's one redeeming quality about you, at least."

"Wow, I have one whole redeeming quality," Draco said dryly. "Stop Granger, I'm blushing." He sneered slightly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'd say coming from me, even one redeeming quality is more than I should really give you credit for," she said bluntly. In that moment she couldn't possibly begin to imagine that _this_ was the boy with whom she shared a unique connection. _This_ was the boy who yesterday, kissed her with such gentleness. Why couldn't she have just felt something with Ron in the first place? That way they never would have gone on a break, and this Malfoy thing wouldn't exist... or would it?

"You know, you're pretty self-righteous too, Granger," Draco snapped. Then he gathered his wits and took a calming breath.

He couldn't really afford to fight with her when another task could happen any day, much to his annoyance. If it were up to him, he would have avoided her completely today. Ideally, he wanted to go on with his life not acknowledging her presence and therefore not acknowledging what they did yesterday. But of course, Dumbledore had to put a spanner in the works… that wretched old coot!

Draco felt like he'd be feeding her ego by backing down, but he had no other option. "If it will save me from some 'Muggleborns are as good as Purebloods' speech from you, then I'll be honest, Granger. Although my initial impulse was to push you off because of who you are, that only lasted for a second, and the reason I tensed up so much was because I didn't know why _you _would hug _me_, rather than the fact that you hugged me."

"Huh?" Hermione took a sip of water and frowned. "That makes no sense."

Draco sighed and bit back a snarky reply. He really wasn't good at serious conversations; his defence mechanism always aimed to push people away to avoid having these conversations in the first place.

"I'm going to repeat what I said to you the other day: I find it bad enough that I have to rely on you treating me like you always have done. I've said and done so much shit to you in the past, and yet you've been treating me… more pleasantly than normal."

"I'm hardly going to act like you're dirt under my shoe when you've been through so much last year, and we have to work together for this -," Hermione gasped and looked over at Draco, realising that she'd just confirmed his self-confessed worst nightmare.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "And there's the pity," he drawled quietly. "Bloody Salazar give me strength, all I wanted was to keep our… interactions as normal as possible. And quite frankly every single time we've had a conversation since we got here have been anything but normal."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Honestly, I think searching for this 'normality' became a lost cause after what happened in the game yesterday." Her heart stopped and then started beating twice as fast as usual when she mentioned the kiss.

Draco's heart did the same thing, but he refused to show her any kind of reaction. He wondered what exactly she was hoping to gain by bringing that up.

"Fair point," he said. "I suppose you hugging me earlier would have been received a lot more negatively if that had never happened." He shuddered slightly at the memory.

Hermione waited for Draco to say more about it; perhaps discover if he'd felt that same rush she had done just as he also felt the same spark when they touched. She knew him bringing it up would be a long shot, but it never hurt to hope.

"We did do well on that task earlier, didn't we?" Draco said after a pause. "Without really trying to. Well, at least I wasn't. I was just trying to piss you off as much as possible."

"I bloody knew that's why you seemed to know the most embarrassing answers straight away," Hermione glared at him from her seat, all the while trying not to let her eyes wander.

Draco smirked. "We've actually been doing well on all of the tasks, if you think about it."

"You're right," Hermione replied, finishing off her water and setting the glass aside.

Another smirk. "I do love it when you tell me I'm right."

"Arse. It really is a mystery how we seem to be doing well when there's still this underlying… dislike for each other."

"I know," Draco said. "Granger I'm going to level with you."

"I'm listening."

"I don't doubt that you really want this position as Head Girl, and I have my own reasons for wanting to be Head Boy, which will probably explain why I've been unnaturally co-operative at times, like now. If we didn't have to work with each other there's no way I'd still be sitting here. And I would have hexed you for bringing up the… _unfortunate_ events yesterday."

Hermione tensed slightly but nodded along. It was really no surprise that he was still pissed about what happened, but at the same time he wasn't being over-dramatic and arse-y about it. She couldn't help but wonder if his goal of becoming Head Boy had anything to do with other things he had so far refused to speak to her about.

"Although it's never been ideal to end up with you as my 'partner' so to speak, we're stuck with each other. I'm still not happy about it, but whatever we seem to be doing to bear with one another in tasks, we're damn good at it. So I suggest we actually try and work together properly and kick everyone else's arses. If we've only been half-heartedly trying so far then imagine how well we can do if we-."

"- Actually try and be civil." Hermione finished for him. "I must say, Malfoy, that's very mature of you."

Draco arched a brow. "You sound shocked, Granger."

"Well this is a pretty big leap from stealing a chair from this room yesterday."

"_Blaise_ stole it," Draco replied.

"I bet it was your idea, though," Hermione said.

"Shut up," Draco laughed slightly, looking at the floor.

"I knew it," Hermione smiled triumphantly. "Hey Malfoy…"

"Yes?" he looked up.

"Since we're way past the point of 'normality' – because of yesterday if anything else – there's really no use in you being worried about me pitying you, right? Because you said if that happened then all normality would be lost."

"I hope you're bloody going somewhere with this," Draco drawled. He tried to avoid making eye contact with Hermione as much as possible. Whenever they looked at each other properly, he was bombarded with flashbacks of Spin the Quill. He'd noticed that she'd indirectly mentioned the game a few times that night, and couldn't help but wonder if she was wanting to discuss it but was too shy – being as innocent as she was – to do so.

Frankly, he couldn't fathom why on earth she'd want to bring that up. He thought it was best to forget it ever happened and move on, but she had other ideas. What was it with girls and having to talk about everything? Draco would sooner let the she-Weasel bat-bogey hex him than have to re-live the memory of yesterday with the girl it happened with.

"Well, would it really do any harm to finish our conversation from the other day?" Hermione said somewhat timidly. "The only reason you didn't elaborate was because of the normality thing and I, well…"

"You can't help but be nosy," Draco said. "I don't know, Granger. I'll admit that talking to you wasn't nearly as torturous as I'd imagined, but only my friends know everything."

_Well, almost. _Draco thought.

"I'm not asking to know everything. Despite what you may think, I only keep asking about this because even though I probably shouldn't, I care. I'm not pushing for us to be friends or anything if that's what's scaring you, but everyone needs someone who they can talk to. I'm going to hazard a guess and say that you're keeping some things bottled up from your friends because you don't want to keep going on about the same things when they have their own problems to deal with."

Draco said nothing, but nodded ever so slightly.

"Well well, Draco Malfoy has a soft side?" Hermione said. "This was unexpected."

"Shut up," Draco replied.

"And you said so yourself that you feel comfortable around me. In a way it probably works out for the best that we try and be civil without moving into the 'friendship' zone for the sake of the competition. That way, you don't have to feel bad about talking my ear off."

"Consider it as payback for the countless times you've talked _my_ ear off." _Like now, _he thought bitterly.

"Is this you agreeing?" Hermione asked, feeling triumphant at finally getting somewhere.

"This is me agreeing because I can tell I wouldn't be able to get rid of you otherwise."

"Okay," Hermione smiled, sensing the sincere undertone in Draco's response.

She was expecting Draco to make an escape on that note, but he stayed put.

"Hermione?" He cringed slightly. The name felt completely unnatural on his tongue. "Would you be able to meet me tomorrow in the Astronomy Tower? If you're so obsessed about wanting to know what's been going on then I may as well get it over with sooner rather than later." Draco felt his throat run dry immediately.

"You're serious?" Hermione blinked. This was going easier than she thought…

"Would I joke about this?" he said derisively.

"Fair point. I don't want to pressure you with anything though."

"In some twisted way, I actually want to talk to you about this. Don't get the wrong idea, though, it's only because you're in a position where you can empathise. Again, consider it a business transaction. I'm only using you for my own gain."

Hermione shrugged. "I'd expect nothing less from you."

Draco frowned. Why was she ignoring all of the bait and being so compassionate and calm? It was rather unsettling. And bloody infuriating.

"Wait, what's in it for you?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You can't seriously want to sit listening to me ramble on and not want anything in return."

"What? Nothing." Hermione said.

"There's nothing at all you'd want from me? Nothing you'd want to talk to me about…?" he said expectantly.

"No." A pause. She sighed. "Not exactly." Yes, there was something she wanted to talk to him about, but at the same time she didn't want to put her foot in it and consequently undo all of the progress and the understanding they'd made.

"For Salazar's sake, just come out with it! What. Is. Your. Ulterior. Motive?"

"Okay, maybe I want to talk about something," Hermione said. "But even if there wasn't anything then I'd still be willing to talk to you."

Draco kept his eyes narrowed. Much to his chagrin, Hermione did seem to be telling the truth. He was becoming antsy now. The longer she stayed in the room with him, the more he wanted to have her close to him again, like she'd been when she hugged him earlier, and during Spin the Quill. That empty and cold feeling he'd noticed last night was too obvious now, and Hermione sitting across from him sickeningly tempted him to have her close again.

It was easy to be close to Pansy or Daphne, but he'd been near them for the majority of the night and he still felt empty. Hermione was the only one he felt something with, and he hated that. Hated himself for wanting more when he'd never really felt anything more positive than dislike towards her. How was it even possible to want to be near someone you've never liked - maybe even hated at times?

If only he knew that Hermione felt the same towards him.

"Whatever," he said, hauling himself up and making his exit from the room, determined to create more distance in the hope that it will lessen the feeling.

He reached his dorm and put his hand on the handle, pausing before going inside when he heard her footsteps advancing towards him. Bloody hell, could he not catch a break tonight?

Hermione reached her door. She looked sideways at him and nodded curtly. "Goodnight Draco," she said, not used to saying his first name, either.

"Grang- er, Hermione," Draco said before he could stop himself.

"Yes?" she frowned slightly when she saw how pale Draco had become. No, he was pale to start with. He was practically translucent in that moment.

Draco swallowed his pride (and his sanity) and took a step towards her. "This stays strictly between the two of us," he said. "Don't ask questions, or I'll be forced to _obliviate_ you."

"O-kay…?" Hermione's frown deepened. She almost yelped in shock when Draco gingerly reached out and awkwardly wrapped his arms around her shoulders, embracing her in a stiff hug. He made sure to keep his bare chest and torso from making contact with Hermione's body, only touching her with his arms and head. Draco cursed himself for being so weak, but as much as he still didn't like the girl, she genuinely did seem to want to help him, and no amount of trying to push her away – metaphorically, of course - had changed that. Merlin knew why, though.

He probably – no - he _definitely_ overstepped the line. But in that moment he didn't care; he needed to be selfish. His head instantly felt clearer when the heat pulsed through him: the same heat that was there when he knocked her hand when they were wearing the handcuffs. He started to pull away, but then Hermione slowly lifted her arms and returned the hug, if only for a second or two.

It was only a short time, but the feel of her hands on his shoulders was worth the awkwardness that was sure to follow. No matter: it wasn't like he gave a damn about things being awkward with her.

Hermione's gaze was confused when they parted. She had no idea what had just happened or why; but it was almost as if Draco knew and understood the electric connection that happened whenever they made contact.

He said only two words before he disappeared into his dorm, not giving her a backwards glance.

"Thanks, Hermione."

Draco sloped laboriously over to his bed and collapsed onto it, falling into a deep sleep almost immediately. He drifted out of consciousness without a single regret or care in the world, though he knew that when he woke, he'd regret what he'd just done.

Hermione was left staring at a closed door for while, her heart still beating steadily in the aftermath of the hug, and the faint buzz of whatever that feeling was simmered in her stomach.

All of that disappeared in a flash when another door opened behind her.

"Hermione, what's going on?"

It was Harry.

_To be continued…_


	10. The Truth

**A/N: **Hello my lovelies. As ever, thank you so much for the amazing response on chapter 9, you're all brilliant!

Updates are going to be just once a week from now on, I can imagine. I know I updated twice when I was writing _Two Weeks_ but the chapters were only half the length in that story so if you think about it, I'm still writing the same amount per week, but it just equates into less frequent updates. I hope you don't mind.

Enjoy, everyone! :)

* * *

**10**

**:. The Truth .: **

"Hermione, what's going on?"

"Harry?" Hermione whirled on the spot. Sure enough, it was her best friend who stood before her. "What are you doing up?" she asked nonchalantly, unable to ignore the accusatory tone to Harry's voice.

"I heard a noise. It sounded like you. It was kind of like a surprised scream."

Hermione thought back. There were two instances where she made such a noise, and she certainly wasn't going to inform Harry of the second hug, so she opted to explain the first instance.

"Yeah um, Dra-_ Malfoy_ just so happened to leave his room the same time I did. I just got up because I needed a drink," she said.

"What was he doing up?" Harry crossed his arms and leant against the section of wall that separated two of the doors.

"Is that really relevant?" Hermione asked in return.

"Yes," Harry said flatly. Hermione really didn't know where he was going with this, but she decided to play along for now.

"He said he couldn't sleep," she shrugged. "He didn't say why, though. Probably just the heat in the rooms or something."

"Hermione, I want you to be honest with me," Harry said, steadily meeting her gaze.

"Okay."

"Did you and Malfoy plan this little late-night get-together?"

"What?" Hermione spluttered. "Just what is it that you're accusing me of? Did Ron put you up to this?"

"No," Harry said. "Don't give me that look, Hermione, I'm being honest."

"So where has all of this come from? What happened to you not picking sides?" Hermione asked, feeling slightly hurt.

"It's just, Ron looked pretty pissed when you impulsively just hugged Malfoy like you did after the task. He's been completely spaced out all night. He wouldn't even talk to me and when he did speak he sounded like he was on the verge of tears. I know what you said to him when he suggested you insisted on seeing other people just to have some fling or whatever with Malfoy. But things have looked pretty, well… suspicious, I guess. I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"Suspicious?" Hermione put her hands on her hips. "You can't be seriously implying that I had any control over that stupid Spin the Quill game. If you want an explanation of what happened during the task, then… well, you know how competitive I get."

Harry nodded vigorously, easily recalling her surly expression in first year when she discovered her inability to fly.

"Apparently Malfoy's exactly the same, and we were just doing so well that I guess we both forgot who we were working with for a moment."

Harry seemed to deflate a little as he expelled a breath of relief, but he remained considerably stoic otherwise. "And it was really just a coincidence that you two were out here just now?"

"Yes," Hermione huffed. "Harry, why are you giving me the third degree all of a sudden?"

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "I… well, I …"

"What?"

"Okay, don't hate me, but when I saw that the quill picked you and Malfoy… I had to see what happened, that's all."

"You watched?"

"Yeah."

Hermione blushed furiously. "Harry, neither of us knew who we were kissing. You can't be implying that Ron's hunch was right and I have been secretly snogging Malfoy all along."

"I know that," Harry said. "I'm sorry, Mione, but it did cross my mind. Later on when Ron was put with Daphne it barely lasted a second. And with you… you used up the whole ten seconds, and you both seemed comfortable with each other."

"We did?"

"Mione, you don't have a crush on Malfoy, do you?" Harry shuddered at the fact he even had to ask her that.

"No," Hermione replied immediately. "It's kind of complicated."

"Tell me," Harry said steadily.

Hermione knew she had to tell him everything. She was backed into a corner, so she told Harry about how the break with Ron came about in the first place, how she suggested that he see other people this month because he felt some kind of connection with Lavender that wasn't there with her. And in as few words as possible, she explained that she feels the same thing with Draco, and only Draco.

Harry listened patiently throughout. "So this thing with Malfoy is just when you have physical contact?"

"Yes. Just my rotten luck," Hermione sighed.

"You have to end this break with Ron," Harry said.

"Don't you think I've tried? I'm sorry, but even before the Malfoy thing ever happened I had a hunch that it wasn't going to make a difference. The other reason I kissed Malfoy for as long as I did was to prove to myself for certain that Ron and I could only ever be friends. But Ron's adamant about this. It's going to be hard enough to break his heart like that, so the least I can do is follow through on this break and tell him in September so it seems like I actually thought about it. I love Ron to pieces, Harry. I don't know what I'd do without either of you in my life, but I'm not _in_ love with him."

Harry gave her a sad smile, "You're serious?"

"Yes."

"Then you can't give Ron anymore indication that suggests there's some weird thing going on with Malfoy. I know you can't help this connection thing you have with him but I s'pose what I'm saying is no more random hugging when he's around."

Hermione laughed. "Wait. You saw me kiss Malfoy yesterday. Ron doesn't know what happened, does he?"

"Oh Merlin, no," Harry said. "That would just destroy him. For all he knows I didn't see anything."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks."

"Okay," Harry nodded back. "Sorry about this, but I did start to think that maybe… you know."

"Yeah," Hermione yawned. "To be honest I'm surprised you were so understanding. The connection thing doesn't even make sense to me."

Harry put his hand on the door to his dorm. "I know what that connection feels like," he said simply. "It's how it feels with Ginny, for me."

Hermione's stomach dropped. She just gaped at her friend.

"You seriously don't have a crush on him?"

"No I don't," Hermione snapped. "Draco has about as much charm as a dead slug. If I had it my way, I'd feel this thing with Ron. Merlin knows my life would be easier that way."

Harry gave her a half-smile. "Life's never easy, Mione," he said.

* * *

"Unity. Unity. Hellooo?! UN-I-TY!"

"Doesn't he know yet?" Hannah chuckled at Ernie shouting the password that no longer existed at the door.

"I swear if you don't let me in, I'm going to break you down." There came the swish of a wand being drawn and Susan immediately leapt up from her seat and hurtled towards the door. Of course the door was pretty much indestructible when it came to magic, so Ernie resorted to threatening it with his fists.

"Oh no you don't," Susan muttered, yanking the door open just as Ernie swung his fist. The momentum carried his whole body forwards, and he tumbled in a heap on the floor.

Susan nudged him with her foot. "Hannah and Terry asked Dumbledore about removing the password yesterday. I thought you were there."

"Well I wasn't," Ernie snapped, walking to his dorm and slamming the door.

"Mack's being pretty moody today," Pansy commented. "Did someone hide a biting teacup in his trousers?"

"No, but that is a damn good idea," Blaise laughed across from her.

"Are you saying you do know the reason?" Pansy's gossip-radar was on full alert.

"Well Lavender is a good friend of Patil's," Blaise smirked.

"Oh, well at least she isn't a total airhead," Daphne chimed in. "Spill it, Blaise."

Blaise leant against the back of the sofa and stretched out his arms. "Maybe I'll consider it if you two lovely ladies give me something in return," he made a kissing noise and wiggled his eyebrows.

Pansy turned her nose up. "Ugh, as if I would when you've been tainted with Gryffindor germs. I can't even mess around with Draco anymore because of bloody Granger."

"I didn't think you wanted to be with him like that anymore," Daphne said.

"Well, you know, a girl's got to have options."

"So, what about you, Daph?" Blaise waggled his eyebrows again.

"Call me old-fashioned but I've no desire to be one of your random slags," Daphne said haughtily.

Blaise predictably failed to read between the lines of her comment. "Aren't you two girls picky?" he drawled.

"We deserve the best," Pansy said with a wry smile.

"Ouch, Pansy," Blaise clutched his chest in mock-hurt. "But I may as well tell you anyway. Apparently Patil and Mack had this big fight yesterday because they got beat by Draco and Granger."

Pansy and Daphne exchanged annoyed glances. "That's it?" Pansy asked.

"Well you've got to admit it was a bit unexpected. Considering the test was about respect and a couple was beaten by two people who probably never have had a shred of respect for the other."

"It was only one point difference, though," Daphne said.

"Still. Hufflepuffs are sensitive."

"Except that Justin prick," Pansy shuddered. The others mumbled in agreement. "Hey, where the heck is Draco, anyway?"

"No idea," Blaise said. "He got up early and then said he was going for a walk."

"I don't know why he can't just talk to us," Pansy said.

"Maybe he'd feel weak if he did," Daphne said. "That's how he was brought up, from what he's told me on the odd occasion. But let's not pressure him into anything. He knows we're all here for him just as much as we're there for each other."

"I love you to bits, Daph, but it does unsettle me when you go all diplomatic like that," Pansy said. "It's pretty noble and Gryffindor-ish."

Daphne shrugged. "That's what rebellion does to people. I know I used to take you all for granted, but last year I realised just how much I needed you all. Now if either of you dare make some snide remark about that I'll hex you into the middle next week."

* * *

Draco paced the floor of the Astronomy Tower impatiently, his feet carrying him but his mind was elsewhere. What the hell possessed him to actually agree to spill his deepest secrets to Hermione bloody Granger? The fact that they agreed to be civil? The fact that she's his partner for the Head Boy and Girl competition? The bloody connection they seemed to have? Whatever the reason, Draco made a mental note not to venture out to the common room again past two am. If the alternative of making considerably bad decisions was dying a slow and painful death from heat exhaustion in the dorm then so be it.

He was almost certain that he looked awful today. Despite his ease of drifting off to sleep last night, he had woken up very early, and had been pacing the Tower for a good hour or so. In fact, he was pretty shocked to see that the paths of his treads hadn't begun to wear away at the swirling pattern of the wooden floorboards.

The sound of excited chatter and laughter broke Draco's thoughts. He switched his path of pacing to towards the balcony instead of walking from side-to-side parallel to it. Looking down he could see the students headed for the Quidditch pitch whose fun had been postponed by the storm. Draco's eyes immediately picked out the retreating forms of Harry and Ron. He was surprised to see that Hermione wasn't with them. Well, that wasn't entirely true; Draco already knew that she hated Quidditch, but still he couldn't help but wonder…

Dainty footsteps rang out against the metal staircase as someone approached. By the time a voice spoke, Draco was staring intensely at Harry's hair. His bed-hair couldn't seriously be _that_ bad, could it?

"Draco?"

Draco sighed. Hermione had turned up. Although every fibre in his being wanted nothing more than to barge past her and lock himself away in his dorm, he knew his sleep-deprived self had been the cause of this, and he wanted to salvage as much dignity as he could by at least following it through.

"Grang… Hermione," Draco cleared his throat. He internally groaned as he remembered that his two am-self had also taken to addressing her by her first name. What the hell was he thinking?

"You… you came," Draco pointed out dumbly, at a loss of what else to say.

"I said I would," was her response.

"Still, I didn't really expect you would," Draco shoved his fidgeting hands in his pockets and strode towards her.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked somewhat timidly.

Draco didn't answer.

"You've gone off the idea of talking to me," she said matter-of-factly. "That's okay. I don't want to push you or anything if you feel uncomfortable-"

For some reason, her belittling tone really set Draco on edge. She was just like everyone else. He knew that by revealing even the tiniest details to her about last year would be enough of a trigger for the Granger pity-party. Where he was the guest of honour.

"What's happened to you?" he demanded. "Where's that Granger from the first night we met up here? The one who refused to leave unless I talked?"

Hermione seemed affronted by his tone. "I-I'm sorry, but –"

"Don't apologise. Don't condescend me. And for the love of Merlin, don't pity me. Understand?" Draco hissed.

"I was only trying to hel…" Hermione's voice trailed away. This was bad. She remembered that first night in this tower clear as crystal. She had refused to leave; she hadn't cared if she was making Draco uncomfortable and she had asked him to talk on the basis that she would never pity him. What was happening now could only mean one thing: somewhere between then and now, something shifted the dynamic between them. But exactly what it was, Hermione didn't know. It could be a multitude of things.

She knew what she had to do. If she wanted him to talk (which she did, for his own gain as much as her own), she was going to have to become 'that Granger' again. Hermione wasn't entirely sure why she still wasn't 'that Granger', but if it meant easing Draco's nerves a little, then so be it.

_Wait. So now I'm going to be snooty bossy-boots Granger to be nice to him? What has the world come to?_

"Fine. I won't," she snapped exaggeratedly. "But I'm the only person here who's not a Slytherin who gives a damn about you, Malfoy. You asked me to come here today, and here I am. So you may as well get on with it. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened last year."

Draco was startled by her sudden outburst. He surveyed her carefully. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, and her hip was cocked out to the side in a defiant stance. It all seemed a little forced but he was too angry to take notice of the twinkle of sadness and sincerity in Hermione's eyes.

"Why the hell would you give a damn about me?"

Hermione groaned loudly – forcibly – and put on her best bossy tone. "We're going over old ground, Malfoy. I told you nights ago. I bloody well know how it feels to be targeted over something I can't control. I can empathise with you."

It was then that Draco finally realised what seemed off about her. But why was she doing it? Because he let on that the nicey-nicey approach made him feel small and weak? It had to be. Something about the gesture comforted him, rather than patronised him. Maybe it was the in-direct approach of it. He honestly didn't know, but he found that he now felt a hell of a lot more comfortable around her than he did when she first arrived.

He let out a long breath and looked at her steadily. "Alright Granger, keep your owl's nest on. You can drop the act now."

"What bloody act? And how dare you! Looking at you now, I'd say your hair is in a worse state than mine!"

Her response just confirmed Draco's suspicions. Last night she failed to retaliate to the hair insult. He knew that she was just staging this whole argument, but he found himself wanting to have it out with her anyway, if only just for old times sake. He couldn't remember the last time they had a good argument.

"Okay, never insult the hair, Granger," he snarled in a way he hadn't done in a long time.

"Forget your bloody hair and quit stalling," Hermione snapped impatiently, tapping her foot on the floor for good measure. "If you think I'm not stubborn enough to wait here until you talk to me then you'd be wrong."

"You'll be waiting a bloody long time, then," Draco shot back.

"Why are you always so cold and distant? Maybe if you'd stop pushing people away then you would have had less people against you last year!" Hermione could see that her plan was working, so she took it up a notch.

Draco's whole demeanour darkened. "Don't talk like you bloody knew what went on Granger. You always act like you know everything about everyone, and it's infuriating!"

"Well then you'd better enlighten me, since I seem to be misjudging you," she challenged. "What is it? Were you the victim instead of the one alienating students and pushing them away? Because if so then I can't imagine why someone like you would stick around and put up with that."

She knew Draco's impulse would be to prove her wrong, and he didn't disappoint. "I _was_ the bloody victim, Granger! All of the Slytherins were."

"Oh like you were with that Hippogriff?" she scoffed.

"No! For real. I'm not some petulant child anymore, Granger. Why would I purposefully want to rile up the entire school the term after my father was sent to Azkaban?! With You-Know-Who gone, everyone seemed to jump at the chance to mock me because of it. Now why would I make that worse for myself, hm?"

His breathing was hard and ragged. He still seemed to be stuck in his angry daze so Hermione allowed him a few seconds to adjust to what he'd just revealed. Slowly, the anger in his eyes turned to recognition, and he looked at Hermione part-horrified, part-relieved, and part-impressed eyes.

She smirked at him. "Now that wasn't so hard was it?"

"Huh?" Draco asked, still not fully adjusted to the situation.

"You just admitted more to me in the last minute than you did over twenty minutes in the common room last night. Apparently riling you up is the best way to get you to talk."

"You sneaky little –"

"Not so transparent now, am I?" she cocked a brow.

"I don't know whether to thank you or hex you," Draco said. "I actually feel better now. Like that argument broke the ice a bit."

"I guess you do feel comfortable around me," Hermione commented.

"Only if we're fighting though."

She shrugged. "It's what we do best. Now are you going to talk to me properly? Harry and Ron are going to get suspicious if I don't show my face at the Quidditch pitch soon."

"I don't know," Draco sighed. "It's just… I didn't like that Hermione who came up the stairs a few minutes ago. You actually seemed shy. You are_ never_ shy."

Hermione thought about this for a moment. "I suppose I see why that would have freaked you out a bit. "Okay," she said, gathering her wits in the wake of the fake argument. "I'll make you a deal. You tell me everything, and I won't give a damn about making you feel uncomfortable about it."

Draco smirked. He could see she was really trying, and the fact that she went through the effort to start that argument just to make him open up showed her sincerity in it all, didn't it? In a way, he felt like he wouldn't really care if she started being sympathetic. His gut told him that her tentativeness had been genuine concern, not meaningless and taunting pity at his expense. It wasn't a ploy to make him feel weak, but comforted. But he agreed to her deal anyway.

She sat down on the step that led up to the viewing platform, and patted the area next to her in a gesture to invite him to follow suit. Once again, Draco saw this as a sign of friendship than condescension. _Wait _– he shuddered – _friendship?_ Compassion. That was the word he was looking for.

"Did you get dressed in the dark Granger?" he asked as he walked over and sat down.

She rolled her eyes, half-wondering if this was his way of testing her. "No. But I can't stand all of that faffing about in front of my wardrobe when there are more pressing matters to attend to. I know you're used to being in the company of well-dressed girls like Daphne and Pansy, but we are not friends, so why should you care how I dress?"

Draco relaxed even more at her words. 'We are not friends': perhaps Granger wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps.

"And while we're on the subject of dressing in the dark," Hermione surveyed Draco quickly. "Did you do that this morning?"

Draco scowled at her half-heartedly. "Well it was half past five when I woke up so it was half-dark I suppose. I still look better than you, though."

"Git," Hermione responded. The tower fell silent as she waited for him to take the initiative and begin the explanation. Draco looked down into her eyes: so impartial and open-minded. He still wasn't sure how she could bring herself to put their differences aside, and to _help_ him of all reasons. In fact, in some ways he hated it. He felt like he now owed her something. And he really wasn't that much of a reliable person.

"Granger," he said.

"Yes?"

"I don't want to do this. I'd feel like I was in debt to you for listening to me or something."

Hermione bit her lip. _You don't owe me anything!_ She wanted to shout. But that would un-do the whole purpose of the fake argument. She had to keep playing along as long as she could.

Seeing the way he was sat: arms stretched behind him with the flat of his palms against the floor, gave Hermione a stroke of inspiration. She wasn't sure her motives were a hundred per cent selfless, but it was her only chance of overcoming this hurdle.

She made sure to move slowly so as to capture Draco's attention. She summoned all of her courage and stretched out her hand to cover one of his. The reaction was instantaneous. Draco's eyes widened and he looked down at their joined hands, now practically searing with non-lethal heat. It didn't take him long to figure out why she did that.

"Do you… know?" he asked.

"Yes, and now I know you do too," Hermione observed. "You said you didn't want to owe me anything. Well, here's my proposition. You let me help you, and in return, you talk to me about… well, whatever this is," she gave Draco's hand a light squeeze, which just seemed to pulse a ball of energy up her arm.

"Take it or leave it, Malfoy," she said, straining to keep her voice even.

"Bloody fine," Draco dragged out his hand from beneath hers. Hermione smirked triumphantly. "I saw that," he narrowed his eyes.

"So, whatever happened to you was because your father was sent to Azkaban?" she prompted, acting on his earlier revelation.

Draco studied her expression. It was blank. Neutral. Non-Judgemental. Even when she had more than likely fought against his father at the Ministry, she was handling this without being biased. He couldn't help but take a second to admire that about her.

"Yes. I suppose I can't really blame them in a way. I'm a Death Eater's son, after all. Why shouldn't they treat me as if I was one of them?"

"Being related to someone doesn't automatically make you like them," Hermione said. "I mean, both of my parents are dentists and I've never really had any interest with teeth whatsoever."

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched upwards slightly. "I'm sure I would have found that comment useful in some way if I knew what a bloody dentist was."

"Dentists are like Healers but they specialise in teeth."

"Oh," Draco nodded vaguely. Apparently she hadn't helped in the slightest.

"You aren't a Death Eater, Draco," she changed tactics; the use of his given name was completely accidental, but he didn't seem to care. "You had no part in what happened at the Ministry, so any act of hate against you or anyone else from Slytherin was completely uncalled for."

"I know I'm not a Death Eater… but I," Draco clenched his eyes shut. "I was going to be."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked. She just about managed to conceal the concern in her voice and mask it with indifference.

"If You-Know-Who hadn't been destroyed, I would have been Marked last summer. My father… he told me that You-Know-Who had some kind of plan. Inside work at Hogwarts, and he chose me. I don't know if it was to punish my father or honour him, really."

The silence that followed was deafening. Draco half-expected Hermione to run off in disgust. But she stayed put beside him.

"You were the Chosen One," she spoke so softly that Draco thought she was talking more to herself than to him. He couldn't ignore what she said, though.

"Just like Potter was," he said stiffly.

Hermione suddenly remembered their conversation last night: how Draco's whole demeanour changed as soon as she likened his bed-hair to Harry's. "Don't ever compare me to Potter, Granger. Ever," he warned. And now she understood what that meant, why he reacted the way he did.

"You didn't want to do it," she said.

"What?"

"Become a Death Eater. You didn't want to do it… did you?"

"At first I did," Draco admitted. "My father brainwashed me with all this talk about it being a great honour to be hand-chosen by You-Know-Who. I suppose in some ways I wanted to one-up Potter. But when You-Know-Who was destroyed I realised just how relieved I was about not having to do it. But face it: in sixth year I was about as close as a Death Eater as anyone could get. I deserved what happened to me."

"No you didn't," Hermione said firmly. "I may not know an awful lot about how Voldemort's inner-circle worked, but I'm guessing that you would have been Marked last summer even if you had always been completely against the idea. You would have either been forced to go through with it or you and your family would have been killed."

That half-smirk returned again. "For someone who doesn't know an awful lot, your guesses are pretty accurate."

"Don't you see, though? You had no choice in the matter."

"Well nobody cared enough to stop and think about that, did they?" Draco snapped. "Nobody – including you – cared. You didn't even know I was going to be branded with the Dark Mark until now, so as far as everyone knew last year, I was simply the son of a Death Eater, and yet me and the other Slytherins were punished for it."

"I guess people, particularly Muggleborns, wanted to get revenge on people for the losses their families suffered because of Voldemort, and the Slytherins were the closest anyone in the school could come to Death Eaters."

"That makes me feel so much better," Draco spat.

"I'm not here to make you feel better," Hermione replied, keeping up with her end of the deal about acting like she didn't care. "Are you actually going to tell me what happened?"

"I was getting to it," Draco said. His voice was calmer than it had just been. He took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Hermione about his experiences of the last school year.

Hermione learned that whilst she may have already gathered the gist of what had happened, just from observations, she really didn't know all that much. She already knew that other houses banded together and effectively shunned anyone from Slytherin house after the fall of Voldemort. Draco, like everyone else on his side of the conflict, naturally fought back at first. Hermione just thought he'd eventually given up with retaliating and just gone about ignoring everyone, but she was very shocked to learn that his reasons for backing down were very different. In the heat of a standoff with Justin, Draco learned that Lucius had killed Justin's grandmother in the summer after Voldemort's return. Justin, looking for someone to blame, turned on Draco.

In all honesty, Hermione wasn't that emotionally invested in his tale at first. She didn't think anything was too extreme or out of the ordinary. But all of that changed when Draco told her that he actually began to feel guilty for his father's actions after that day. He spoke of how he'd purposefully avoid going to the library unless it was after hours; that he'd hide away and isolate himself in the Dungeons with the other Slytherins: his companions, unless he was obligated to be in lessons. Quidditch, one of his biggest passions in life, turned into something similar to a death sentence, where Bludgers would be sent his way in a consistent fashion much like Dobby's rogue Bludger had been with Harry in second year.

Even Draco's friendships became strained and fragile. Those people, like Justin, who were really invested with the rebellion, targeted the other sixth years just for being associated with Draco, but they held strong as a group. Daphne apparently created a rift by taking a week off school to go on holiday with her parents and sister, effectively running away from the conflict and her friends. When she returned she didn't think she'd done anything wrong, but she too became isolated as Pansy, Blaise and Theo started avoiding her, branding her a traitor. During this time, she and Draco almost bonded over their new isolated lifestyles. Really, the whole tale was quite heart breaking in Hermione's perspective. Draco's eyes were glazed over, speaking in a detached and mechanical way. Soon, something didn't quite add up, so Hermione stopped him.

"Draco," she said gently, touching his shoulder.

"Hm?"

"This all sounds completely awful, but can I ask: when you mentioned that everyone ganged up on Daphne for going on holiday and 'escaping', why didn't you escape too? Go home so you wouldn't have to face everyone. Only a handful of Slytherins showed up at school to begin with. No offence but you've never been the brave type," she laughed half-heartedly.

"Is this your way of admitting I do, in fact, have some kind of backbone, Granger?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, knowing he was just fishing for a compliment. "Just answer the question," she sidestepped his comment.

"It crossed my mind every day. There was nothing more I wanted to do than go home. When the Slytherins started turning on each other, I knew that isolation at home would be preferable than here. But my mother wouldn't allow it?"

"Did she know-?"

"Oh yeah, I told her everything. She was naturally concerned for me, but apparently her priorities lie in the reputation of the family after my father was sent to Azkaban. She wanted me at school to study and earn good grades, which I suppose also explains why I showed my face here to do this competition."

"So that's why you're being so co-operative," Hermione said. "And here was me thinking you'd turned over a new leaf."

"You don't think my experiences last year changed me at all?" Draco's face was unreadable. Hermione had no idea how she should respond.

"I think," she said slowly. "That you are still a chauvinistic, arrogant pain in the arse, but you are bearable more frequently. And at least you make an effort to be somewhat pleasant around people, so yes, I think you've changed, if only a little. I think 'matured' is the word."

"Stop, you're making me blush," he muttered bitterly.

"Hey," Hermione scooted a little closer to him. "Is this whole thing with your mum the reason why you aren't visiting?"

"Yeah," Draco said.

"Are you two on bad terms? Do you resent her for making you stick out until the end of the year?" Hermione felt like she'd overstepped the line but the words were out of her mouth before she could process them.

"I suppose on some level I do," Draco sighed. "But I think more of the reason I avoid her is a matter of pride. The entire family reputation is resting on my shoulders and I don't want to disappoint her. In a way, I think I've already failed; it was pretty frosty between us in the weeks of summer leading up to me coming here."

"She'd bound to be hurting after Lucius went to Azkaban; she won't want to lose you too," Hermione said softly. "You should visit; let her know you're okay. Tell her how well you're doing in this competition."

"But I-."

Hermione held her hand up, silencing him. "She's your mum. She won't kill you if you voice your concerns about feeling too much pressure."

There came a long pause. "I don't think I can," Draco said quietly. "I've left it too long to suddenly bring that up."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, is everything about bloody pride to you?"

"So what if it is?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but sitting here alone with a Muggleborn and talking so openly about personal stuff is a great deal of pride lost in itself. At least by a Malfoy's standards," she said. "It'll be good for you to go and see her."

"I suppose you have a point."

More silence.

"Do you feel better now that you've unloaded that baggage?" Hermione asked.

"As much as it worries me that I'm slowly turning into a weedy Hufflepuff, I have to admit that it did," Draco said. "I know we agreed to talk about other stuff too, but all of this has pretty much drained me."

"I knew you'd make a bloody excuse to get out of it," Hermione joked, elbowing him gently. "I'll let you off, just this once."

"How kind of you," Draco said dryly.

"Shut up," Hermione smiled. "I'd better get going then. The boredom of the Quidditch pitch awaits."

"Did you just use the words 'boredom' and 'Quidditch' in the same sentence?" Draco looked at her as if she'd just been caught skinning Mrs Norris or something.

"I did," Hermione grinned, knowing this would annoy him more.

Draco rolled his eyes. As she started to descend the stairs he spoke, stopping her in her tracks.

"Hermione."

"Yes?"

"I… well, I…" Draco stumbled over his words.

Hermione smiled at him. "You're welcome" she replied. And then she left Draco alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company.

* * *

The next day, as Draco lined up at the apparition point with all of the other candidates, he was in two minds about what he should do. He could bail and do his usual round-a-bout journey back to school, or he could actually go home. He knew that Hermione was staying in the castle today, and for some reason he felt like he'd be letting her down if he showed his face there this early. After all he'd told her yesterday, he felt like he now owed it to her to go and see his mother, if only for five minutes.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. What had the world come to? He was now going out of his way to massage Hermione Granger's over-inflated ego. He felt like he owed her something, and he hated it.

_Well, you wouldn't have to owe her if you'd just got the damn talk over with about that stupid connection you have with her, _his mind berated him.

Draco left the decision entirely in the hands of his subconscious when he reached the front of the queue to apparate. He took a deep breath, gripped his wand and spun on his heel.

He found himself standing on the gravel path in front of Malfoy Manor. He hadn't seen the place in over a week but already it felt too soon to be back. Too soon to face his mother. Ideally, Draco would have liked to get the competition over with and find some way to stay in the castle until the new term began. But then Hermione had to come along and ruin his plans, as usual. Damn her!

He tapped out the password combination on the towering front doors with his wand and let himself in. For some reason he felt like he was intruding in his own house. It was a little unsettling.

Only the sound of the grandfather clock in the drawing room greeted him. He let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he'd timed it lucky and his mother wasn't home. But then he heard footsteps, and the relieved smile was wiped from his face.

"Draco?" the voice was soft, broken.

Draco just stood rigidly, fixated to the spot. It felt like his muscles had seized up; that his tongue had been glued to the roof of his mouth.

And then his mother stood before him. Her eyes were tear-stained but she still managed to maintain that air of serenity and grace that Lucius had always likened to a swan. Just thinking of his father sent a chill up Draco's spine.

"Hello," Draco said flatly.

Narcissa walked over to him and embraced him tightly. "Why haven't you visited until now? I've been so worried." This greeting was quite unexpected; he couldn't remember the last time his mother had hugged him.

"Have you, really?" Draco snapped when she released him. He was suddenly so angry but he didn't know why.

"Of course. Do you realise how bad I felt having to keep you at that school when those vile children were putting you through hell?"

"Well you sure had a funny way of showing it," Draco replied.

"I did it to protect you," she said sharply.

"From what?!"

"From You-Know-Who, if he should ever rise again."

The anger drained from Draco's being with that comment. "What?"

"It was like my prayers had been answered when he was destroyed in the Ministry last summer. I never wanted you to follow in your father's footsteps. I thought if you were taking the brunt of anger from the students at Hogwarts about his Death Eater activities then… well, you'd be put off ever thinking about becoming one of them. I can see now that I went about it the wrong way."

"Well a word of warning would have been nice," Draco grunted, but he couldn't keep the joking tone from his voice. Narcissa reciprocated with a humorous twinkle in her eyes. "I thought you were punishing me, or too caught up with keeping the family reputation in high standings."

"All I ever wanted from you was to grow up into an honest hard-working man," Narcissa said. Then paused. "Well, with your inheritance I suppose you wouldn't need to work, but I thought I'd be teaching you the wrong lesson if I allowed you to run from your problems so easily. Your father's involvement with You-Know-Who always did prove a fragile topic in our marriage, especially after you were born. I couldn't stand the suspense when he'd go away on missions, wondering if he'd return alive. Wondering if he'd do something wrong and worrying if You-Know-Who would use you as a weapon or punishment."

Draco's eyes widened. He wasn't used to any member of his family being so open with him. First the hug and now this: what was going on?

"Well, thanks for telling me the truth," he said.

"Oh Draco, come here," Narcissa gave him no choice in the matter, and hugged him again. "I'm sorry that you got the wrong idea, but my 'mothers intuition' told me that it would benefit you more if you were oblivious to my motives for keeping you at school. Did it work?"

The arched eyebrow and leading question was clearly a Malfoy trait. His mother was fishing for a compliment, and he couldn't help but smirk at the shared characteristic. "Again with all the hugging? I feel like I'm back at Hogwarts with all of those Hufflepuffs."

Narcissa cringed slightly. "Yes, about that, I apologise if you felt like I was acting distant or cold towards you before you left. I felt guilty: I thought showering you with hugs and kisses would make it seem like I was perfectly content with keeping you at school."

Draco shrugged. It seemed like struggling to face one's demons ran in the family. "Well, better an aloof Malfoy than a weedy Powderpuff, right?"

Narcissa's stoic mask cracked as her lips twitched upwards. "Well come on, I'll tell the house-elf to make us some tea and you can tell me about this competition. Personally I don't really see any point in it. It seems like such a waste of the school holidays."

"It hasn't been that bad," Draco replied, his mouth twitching into a smile.

Narcissa arched a brow again. She wondered just what or whom he was thinking about to evoke such a reaction. It meant that someone or something at Hogwarts, other than his Slytherin friends, was putting a smile on his face again. And that's all he deserved after last year.

* * *

Hermione sat in one of the armchairs in the common room talking – or rather comforting – Padma about Ernie, along with Hannah, Susan and Mandy. It's not that she disliked Padma, but Hermione really wasn't good at giving relationship advice (hell, she couldn't even figure out her own circumstances!). Plus, she had been hoping to catch up on some reading, but that idea went down the drain after just half an hour.

It also didn't help that her and Draco's success in the task had been the trigger for their argument. She almost felt to blame for it, or at least, she felt the need to defend herself – say she only knew the answers because she'd revised the fact sheet – but nothing seemed to help.

"He's just over-reacting," Mandy said, rubbing Padma's shoulders. "It was just a complete fluke how well Mione and Malfoy did."

"Mandy," Susan berated. "Mione I'm sure she didn't mean anything bad by-."

"Oh no," Mandy blushed slightly. "I mean, I'm guessing it was just luck judging by the looks on their faces whenever they scored points."

The others looked at Hermione for confirmation. "Er, yeah completely. It's really nothing you two should fall out over. It was only one point difference."

"But Ernie's been avoiding me whenever I try and speak to him," Padma said.

"Do you want me to say something," Susan asked. "I know what a drama queen he can be at times."

"Who's a drama queen?" Ernie asked, emerging from his dorm right on cue. He surveyed the occupants of the living area of the room. "Oh, me."

"Yes," Susan narrowed her eyes. "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

"Hey! Padma's the one who went in a mood for half an hour after the task finished."

"Well, she's a Ravenclaw," Hannah was clearly grabbing at straws in the hope of coming up with some kind of excuse. "It's only natural that she become frustrated if she didn't do so well on a quiz."

"You mean it was nothing to do with me?" Ernie asked, the sheepish grin replacing his angry frown.

"No, you idiot," Padma said, though her voice lacked malice.

"I s'pose I did take it a bit far. Sorry Mione, but I just freaked out when-"

"When she and Malfoy beat lovey-dovey Padnie?" Susan finished for him.

The area fell silent and everyone's attention turned to a now blushing Susan.

"Padnie?" Padma asked on behalf of everyone.

"Yeah, yeah, never-had-a-boyfriend Susan is a soppy romantic and made an amalgamation of your names because you're a couple, ha, ha," she said sarcastically.

Everyone laughed, leaving Susan unsure whether people were laughing at her or with her.

"Okay, are you two going to kiss and make up now, or what?" Hannah said.

Ernie and Padma took her words very literally, and Hermione immediately averted her gaze, not very comfortable with the public PDA, which was pretty ironic considering the Spin the Quill game, but at least people were wearing blindfolds… except Harry…

That was the moment when Draco entered the room. His nose crinkled in disgust at the sight of 'Padnie' snogging. He refrained from commenting, though.

Hermione inadvertently caught his eye across the room. She wondered where he'd been all day. Part of her wondered if he'd actually gone home after their talk yesterday. She noticed Draco subtly flick his head towards the door, as if gesturing for her to follow him.

He then left the room whilst spouting profanities about having to rip his eyes out after seeing Ernie and Padma, and Hermione followed him out when a reasonable amount of minutes had passed do it didn't seem suspicious. She was making sure to be extra wary after she promised Harry to not arouse Ron's concerns about Draco anymore. She needn't have been so cautious; the boys were engrossed in a game of Wizard's Chess at the back of the room and the Slytherin girls seemed to be finding great entertainment in doing anything possible to put them off. Judging by the colour of Ron's ears, they were doing a pretty good job.

Hermione slid out of the room and jumped when Draco was waiting just outside the door.

"You took your time," he drawled.

"I didn't realise I was keeping you waiting," she replied.

"Malfoys are never kept waiting."

"There's a shocker," Hermione rolled her eyes. "So what did you want?"

The words had been right there on the tip of Draco's tongue. He wanted to get rid of the feeling that he was in-debt to her by thanking her properly for listening to him the day before. Wanted to begrudgingly admit that she'd been right about going home; if he hadn't gone then he'd still be under the impression that his mother had kept him here last year as a punishment.

It was all so well thought out. So Draco could never explain what possessed him to close the gap between them, cup Hermione's cheeks in his hands and kiss her.

_To be continued…_


	11. The Stones

**A/N: **Phew, you're all lucky - I was convinced this wasn't going to be ready in time, but I managed to get the weekly update published for you *happy dance*. I haven't had chance to proof-read as much as I'd liked because it's been a pretty hectic week and I wanted to upload tonight, so excuse any glaring errors. Also apologies if this chapter is a bit all over the place, I kept changing my mind over and over about certain parts :/

I'm also thrilled to have hit the 100 review mark after chapter 10, I don't think I got 100 until chapter 14 of Two Weeks so thank you all so, so much! *Internet hugs all around*

Keep those comments and alerts coming my lovelies (but don't kill me because there's another cliffy *sigh*).

Enjoy! :D

* * *

**11**

**:. The Stones .:**

If Hermione had been anticipating anything when she'd followed Draco out of the common room, the two of them kissing would certainly be far down the list. She didn't have a clue what brought it on, nor did she have a clue why she hadn't yet pushed him off. Well, actually she did in regards to the latter, but she didn't feel like admitting to herself that she _liked _kissing him. If anything she was the one now prolonging it. Hermione told herself it was because whilst his mouth was occupied, Draco couldn't be a complete arse with his snippy comments, but she knew she was bullshitting herself with that excuse.

If only he wasn't such an obnoxious git, then kissing him wouldn't feel so much like a sin to her.

If only his lips weren't so annoyingly soft, and he gave her that buzz that made her feel alive and beautiful, then she'd almost certainly never stop.

If only he wasn't Draco Malfoy… then she'd have no qualms whatsoever about this.

She was actually quite scared how long this kiss would last if she didn't stop it, and it took the mental reminder that they were stood just outside the common room to finally give Hermione the willpower to do just that.

"What are you doing?" she put one of her hands against his chest and pushed him away, keeping him there at arm's length.

He looked a little dazed himself, as if he wasn't completely sure of the reasons why he kissed her either. But that certainly didn't stop him from being an infuriating arse with his response.

"Well whatever it was, I believe you were doing the same thing," he drawled, arching a blond brow.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I _mean_, what possessed you to do that in the first place?"

"C'mon, don't pretend that you didn't enjoy it." Draco smirked when Hermione's cheeks instantly reddened.

"I'm not going to comment on that," Hermione said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"So that means you did enjoy it, then."

"Draco!" Hermione snapped.

"Hermione!" Draco mimicked her shrill tone, then realised he was pushing his luck so he did his best to dial down his defensive-slash-denial fuelled remarks. "Okay, I don't know why I did that. But when I asked you to come out here I was planning on just… thanking you," he cringed, only now realising that his gratitude was so strong that kissing her seemed like the only way he could express himself.

"Well this just gets more and more bizarre," Hermione said, laughing slightly. "I don't know what's stranger: Draco Malfoy kissing me or Draco Malfoy thanking me… wait, for what?" She frowned.

Draco sighed. "Well it probably isn't wise to be having this conversation when your estranged Weasel is on the other side of that door so let's go somewhere else." He turned on his heel and marched off, leaving Hermione to jog to keep up with him.

"Fine. You better make this quick, though."

"Why so antsy, Granger?"

"I promised Harry to be more careful around you. Ron's still pretty suspicious and it's not going to help if you and I are gone for any length of time."

"Well I seem to recall that we never got around to finishing our last conversation," Draco said, knowing it was better to get that with sooner rather than later. It was bound to be an uncomfortable conversation, but with that out of the way, it meant that he and Hermione no longer had a reason to be around each other, apart from the competition. Thank Merlin.

Hermione chewed her lip in thought, before concluding that getting this conversation out of the way was something best done sooner rather than later. "Fine, I'll just go back and make up some kind of excuse."

Draco nodded once. "You know where I'll be." He turned his back on her and continued walking.

_I do, _Hermione thought as she walked back to the common room.

"How slow do you walk?" Draco asked as she joined him in the Astronomy Tower about ten minutes later.

"I couldn't rush off right away," she said. "I've been spending more time with you than Harry and Ron lately." She paused, and realised that this was no exaggeration. She shuddered slightly, and made a mental note to have a completely Malfoy-free day tomorrow. Merlin knows she'd earned that. "So, what was this about wanting to say thank you?"

"I went to see my mother today," Draco said, thrusting his hands in his pockets. And with those words, Hermione's impatience vanished.

"So what's that got to do with me?" she asked.

"Don't play dumb, you know full well that you're the reason I went," he sighed in what sounded like annoyance, but then he locked eyes with Hermione and let out a long breath, as if he was trying to remain calm.

"I thought what I said yesterday might make you consider visiting her some time in the future but I never imagined you'd go the next day," Hermione admitted. "How did it go?"

"Better than I anticipated," Draco said. "Apparently it was just miscommunication, or _lack of_ communication, that led to be believing she was keeping me here to punish me. I just wanted to thank you for, well, giving me the balls to go and face her in the first place."

"Spoken so eloquently," Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the smile from playing on her lips. "You're welcome," she said. "I'm glad I helped."

That familiar silence filled the air around them. "Do you mean that?" Draco asked after a while.

"What?"

"Are you really glad that you helped?"

"Well, yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

Draco shrugged. "Because it's me?"

"I've already told you that I don't hate you."

"You still dislike me, though."

"We dislike each other," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"That's the thing," Draco bit his cheek. "We dislike each other, so why…?"

His open question could concern a number of things: Why is she happy that things worked out with his mum? Why could they talk so easily with each other? Why did they have this weird connection?

"I don't know," Hermione said honestly.

"Really?" Draco arched a brow. "The only time you don't have an answer? Are you shitting me?"

"Hey, don't start having a go at me!" Hermione snapped.

"Sorry," Draco raked a hand through his platinum hair. "I just don't understand. It's just not logical."

"Well maybe that's why I can't offer an explanation," Hermione said. "My knowledge is based on facts and logic, hence why I can't stand Divination."

Draco snorted. "Yes, that was really something when you just stormed out of class in third year. Us Slytherins were all wondering what got into you, what with your brown-noser reputation."

Hermione blushed. "Yeah, well like I said-"

"_And_ that was the same year you almost broke my nose," Draco went on. "Puberty certainly hit you hard, didn't it Hermione?"

"Please, you had that punch coming to you for years," Hermione said. "That just so happened to be the moment I let you have it."

Draco laughed.

"But it didn't really make a difference," Hermione went on. "You were still a complete arse after that."

"I believe I targeted Potter and Weasley more than you, though," Draco said. "And I'm sure it made you feel good about yourself."

"Of course," Hermione grinned.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm going to level with you, I think that was the moment my hatred towards you shifted to dislike."

"Really?" Hermione frowned. "I would think that would make you hate me even more."

"It did in a way," Draco said, walking over to the viewing platform. "I suppose the thing that changed was that I started to respect you – begrudgingly of course. I was always told that Muggleborns were below Purebloods; that they were inferior. But when you punched me, you put us on even footing. I could never tell if you rose up to my level or you lowered me to yours with that punch, but either way, I've seen you as an equal ever since then."

"Why have you never told me any of this before?" Hermione asked.

"And ruin all the fun of arguing with you?" He arched a brow. "Why would I do that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She was, for once, lost for words. She wasn't quite sure what to make of this 'open' Draco.

"So… about the other thing we were going to talk about," she began.

Draco sighed, knowing that he couldn't really stall any longer. "Hang on." He waved his wand at a couple of pebbles that had presumably been blown in by the recent storms. Muttering incantations under his breath, he transfigured them into two armchairs. "If we're going to be talking about painful things we may as well be comfortable."

"Wow. That's impressive," Hermione said.

Draco shrugged and took a few steps back until the backs of his knees hit a chair. He sank down onto it and looked out at the view. "It did get a little boring last year. I needed to do something to occupy myself."

"And yet, you still felt the need to steal an armchair from the common room when you could do this spell all along?" Hermione looked at him quizzically.

"_Blaise_ stole the chair. Are you deaf? Can you not hear me through that hedge you call hair?"

"Still, I don't quite understand the logic," she laughed, sitting in the other chair.

"Hmm. Speaking of things that aren't logical, we need to get back on track with this conversation. Any theories that may explain our… situation?"

Hermione shook her head. "Well, the only thing that sprung to mind was that you aren't Ron-"

"And you've only just come to realise this?" Draco smirked. "Have you been mistaking me for the Weasel all along?"

"Just let me finish, will you?" Hermione huffed.

Draco laughed. "Right, continue."

"I don't think Ron and I could ever be anything more than friends because there's no romantic spark between us. I'm not saying there is between you and me, but I just had a theory that I felt something with you because you aren't in my 'friend-zone' so to speak."

"Why are you speaking in past tense?" Draco asked, looking slightly disheartened. What she was suggesting so far made sense.

"Do you remember that day when I kept 'accidentally' bumping into the boys who are here?" she asked.

"Yes," Draco nodded, and then realisation hit him. "Was that you testing your theory?"

"Yes. And surprise surprise, you're the only person here who I feel this with." _And it just so happens to be the same feeling Harry has when he's with his girlfriend, _her mind carried on.

He smirked again. "No need to sound so bitter, Hermione."

"Shut up. So what about you? Any genius theories?"

"I thought it was just a natural reaction since I've basically been an untouchable being for the last year – literally. But again, I've been around Daphne and Pansy -"

"Physically?"

"On a purely platonic level," Draco replied. "But still, when there's been contact it hasn't felt the same as… you know."

And with that, they were no further forwards. Hermione knew that the only way of tackling this would be to discuss all of the details of the feeling itself, but that could open a whole new can of worms, and would only complicate the 'why' of it even more. They were at an impasse.

It seemed that the same thought process was going on in Draco's head, for he was biting his cheek and gazing vacantly out at the landscape.

"You know, there may be a way of getting around this without having to discuss it at all," he finally mused aloud.

"I'm listening," Hermione sat up a little straighter.

"You're not going to like it. Hell, even I don't like it but I'm still suggesting it," Draco warned.

"Suggesting what?"

"What if we… wore this feeling down? Worked it out of our systems?"

"I already don't like where this is going," Hermione bit her lip in anticipation.

"This feeling we have might just be some kind of weird phase. What if we embraced it, so to speak, so it fizzles out? That way, we can get on with our merry lives of not having to associate with one another at all."

Hermione's brain was incredibly slow on the uptake, mainly because she didn't want to believe what she already knew deep down. "I'm not going to snog you senseless every time I see you, if that's what you're suggesting," she squeaked indignantly, feeling her cheeks grow red hot.

"I told you, you wouldn't like it," Draco drawled.

Hermione frowned, wondering how on earth he could be so calm about this. "Do you have any stronger arguments other than 'it might fizzle out the feeling'?"

"Just hear me out, okay," he said. "I'm just proposing that we get around this by doing, not by talking. Talking is getting us absolutely nowhere, so it's the only alternative; we just act on whatever impulses we may have when we're around each other – alone of course – without thinking, or _over_-thinking might be the more appropriate phrase."

Hermione thought this was an awful plan; kissing someone she didn't even like just for the hell of it? But at the same time, she couldn't ignore the way she had some kind of need to have him close to her whenever they were alone together. And she'd sooner lose a shred of dignity by kissing him and satisfying that need than discussing the need at all with him and thereby losing even more dignity.

"Go on," she said.

Draco swallowed hard. "Think back, Hermione. Every time something has happened with us, it has been led by impulse over thought." He began listing things off on his fingers. "There was that Spin the Quill game, that time you hugged me after the task, the time I hugged you and what happened outside the common room. I honestly don't know why I did that, but other than Voodoo and the Imperius Curse, I'm pinning impulse on that, too."

Hermione buried her head in her hands. "I really hate that you do have a point there," she groaned. "I couldn't do this. Not with Ron-."

"You're on the most pointless break there has ever been," Draco scoffed. "You aren't together and you've made up your mind that you never will be again. It's not like you'd be cheating on him or anything."

Hermione chewed her lip. "But I did make a big fuss about him being the one to see other people, not me."

"Yeah, because he's following that rule so well," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Hey! I'd still feel bad."

"It's not like we'd just stroll into the common room and snog right in front of him… although I would_ love_ to see how that would turn out," Draco laughed.

"Don't you dare," if looks could kill, the one Hermione was shooting his way right now would do just that.

Draco held his hands up. "I'm just saying, if he can't play by the rules, why should you?"

"Because I, unlike you sneaky Slytherins, have a conscience. He's paranoid about us enough as it is, anyway."

"Ah, but didn't you tell me earlier that you'd promised Potter to be 'extra-careful' around me so as to not make his paranoia worse?" Draco smirked.

"Stop picking holes in my logic!" Hermione said. "I'm really not comfortable with this idea."

"Look, I may not be a prude like you but I'm not exactly thrilled with it either. What's the alternative? Sit here until we're as old as Dumbledore whilst we try and work something out that makes no sense? I'm just running with that theme and proposing that we tackle it with more nonsensical stuff," he shrugged. "It's not like any feelings would be involved."

"What?"

"It'd be purely physical, Hermione," Draco said. "And strictly business, of course. We'll just be two people working together in order to achieve a common goal. It doesn't mean we can't still strongly dislike each other at the same time. Just think of it as another task for this selection system. And I don't know why you've jumped to the conclusion that I meant snogging; with us just the slightest of touches triggers that feeling."

Hermione drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair, still unable to make up her mind. Although, it did make her feel a lot better that snogging wasn't necessarily required... in terms of her head that is. Her heart and stomach, on the other hand, practically sank in disappointment. It was such a bizarre thing to be feeling two completely different things at once.

"I need some time to think-"

"No," Draco said firmly. "The whole point of this is that neither of us think, just do," he paused to smirk at his accidental innuendo. "I know you're a little bookworm brainbox but I also know that you have it in you to disengage your thoughts too, otherwise you wouldn't have hugged me after-."

"I know," Hermione said quietly, looking at the floor. "But somehow I can imagine this turning out very badly. We spend so little time alone together so surely we'd feel pressured to do something whenever we have chance. The kind of closeness you're referring to – not specifically kissing but intimacy – doesn't work when it's forced. It has to be natural, like… things between us have been in the past. Does that make sense?" She surreptitiously pinched her wrist in case she was dreaming, not really comprehending how a conversation with Malfoy had reached such a bizarre point.

Draco sighed in annoyance. "How can you be so sure of that when you're such a prude – no offence?"

"I read a lot," Hermione shrugged.

"Yes, you read non-fiction books," Draco said. "But what you just said sounds like something that'd be written in some cheap magazine like _Witch Weekly_."

Hermione blushed furiously, only just realising that she'd pretty much just quoted an extract from the July issue of _Witch Weekly_: the same issue she'd disguised as a text book and left at The Burrow. She cleared her throat.

"I've never read that kind of stuff," she said, but her voice betrayed her lie.

"Your face tells me otherwise, Granger," Draco cocked a brow.

"I'm telling the truth!"

"I don't believe you."

"Fine then, don't believe me," Hermione shot back. "I don't care what you think of me."

"Evidently you do, otherwise you wouldn't be defending yourself so much," Draco drawled. "But reading about something and experiencing it are two different things. How can you be so sure this plan wouldn't work?"

"You _want _to give this idea a go?" Hermione asked.

Draco's expression turned into a grimace. "Don't make it sound like I suggested this just for a reason to get close to you. Believe me, if I wanted to do that to someone, you would be way down the list."

"Gee, what a charmer you are," Hermione said dryly. Although it did surprise her that his words suggested that she would even make it onto the list in the first place.

"I'm just saying, don't think you're anything special," Draco smirked. "There are a lot of girls who'd kill to be in your position right now."

Hermione snorted. "Right, like who?"

"Pansy-"

Hermione laughed. "Get over yourself Draco. If Parkinson's the best example you can offer, then –"

"Whatever," Draco scowled. "I'm just saying: desperate times call for desperate measures. What I suggested was pretty much rock-bottom, therefore, I'm bloody desperate to be rid of you and this… attachment we have."

Hermione thought about what he'd said for a while. As far as wanting this mutually exclusive feeling they had gone, then she was in the same boat. But she just knew going along with it wouldn't work. It was too weird, not to mention it could vastly affect their chances in the competition if things became too awkward, which they would do judging by their track record.

Draco sat across from her staring out at the view. The sunshine illuminated and almost softened the planes of his pointed face, and made his ice-blond hair seem warm and golden. He didn't notice Hermione looking at him, as he too was lost in thought about something she'd said previously. When she'd said that word: intimacy, something inside his head clicked into place.

He realised that she had a point; their previous intimate encounters had either been off the cuff or just unexpected. They were genuine because of that, and he remembered that she'd promised Potter not to rouse Weasley's suspicions about him further, in which case it was going to prove difficult getting a second alone. Draco knew his plan would mean forced and rushed actions when such a time came, and he wanted to avoiding touching Hermione more than was necessary. In a nutshell, his plan meant tackling this issue completely the wrong way, so they were back at square one.

"All right Granger," he said finally. "Have it your way."

"Well you've suddenly had a change of heart," Hermione laughed. "Don't tell me you think I was right?" she grinned somewhat mockingly.

Draco sneered at her. "Believe what you want but I'm sure as hell not admitting anything to you."

"Oh this is rich," Hermione rolled her eyes. "The ever-mysterious and distant Draco Malfoy has no trouble telling me his deepest secrets and yet he can't simply admit to me that I'm right about something."

"Well I wouldn't exactly call the secret-telling 'no trouble'," he said, tactfully missing her point. It wasn't like he'd told Hermione all of his secrets – because he hadn't – but what he did tell her was uncomfortable enough as it is. He'd felt exposed and weak after so many years of keeping his cards close to his chest.

"Oh," Hermione bit down on her lip as if trying to stop herself from saying words that had already escaped her mouth. "I didn't mean it like that-"

"It's fine," Draco said firmly, not really wanting to get into a deep conversation again. "I don't see why you're telling me that anyway, considering we aren't even friends."

Hermione couldn't argue with this point. Even after everything that had happened she still wouldn't consider Draco as a friend, especially when they had such a rocky history. But she could definitely tolerate him more, which was huge progress in itself.

"Point taken," she said. "So, since your idea isn't really a feasible option, are there any back-up plans?"

Draco thought for a moment. "I say we just pretend nothing weird is going on until one of us comes up with an explanation. We just stay out of each other's way until then, unless we're needed for a task or something."

"Sounds good," Hermione replied, although she was surprised to be feeling a little hurt by his last comment. 'Stay out of each other's way'…

His words weren't intended to hurt her in any way (for once). But upon his earlier musings he'd discovered something else; that the yearning he'd occasionally get around Hermione was down to the simplicity of human companionship and closeness – intimacy – as opposed to more obvious gestures.

If it weren't for that bloody game, he could have remained blissfully unaware of just how void his life had become of physical closeness. The emptiness within him was too noticeable to ignore, now, and that had led to him becoming dependent on Hermione as a result. Dependency wasn't something the Malfoy family were especially familiar with; the feeling was alien and scary to Draco… something that made him weak.

The fact of it was that Draco didn't want to re-live any kind of emotion or feeling that reminded him of last year, and the loneliness was a key factor of that. Perhaps that was even why he'd started pushing the idea of embracing the draw he felt towards the Muggleborn witch. But with that no longer an option, he thought making a point to stay out of Hermione's way could help him ignore it. And her.

* * *

"And then Percy just turned into a giant canary. It was bloody hilarious. Of course, Fred and George's new formula needs a bit of work; the canary still had Percy's 'one is not amused' face, but still. You should have been there Hermione," Ron laughed to himself the next day as he, Hermione and Harry walked around the edge of the Black Lake. "Mione?"

"Hm? Oh sorry, was I doing it again?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Ron replied.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, giving her a pointed look behind Ron's back.

"Yes," Hermione put on her best fake smile. Luckily it was enough to convince Ron. "Just thinking, that's all."

"Bloody hell, when are you _not_ thinking?" Ron laughed. "Take a break will you? Chill out, it's summer," he bumped Hermione's arm with his own.

Hermione's smile weakened. If only she could stop thinking; then it would make her self-promised Malfoy-free day a whole lot more… Malfoy-free.

"You're right Ron," she said with a sigh.

"You what?" Ron looked at her like she was mentally insane. "Did you just say that I'm right about something?"

"Yes, Ronald," Hermione replied, but she couldn't stop herself from chuckling all the same.

Ron just turned to look back at Harry and shrugged.

The three friends came to a halt when they reached a nice shady spot at the edge of the lake. Harry immediately sat down and pulled out a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill. He began scribbling a note to Ginny, whom he'd missed out on seeing earlier in the day since she had gone to Wales with Arthur to watch a home Quidditch game of the Holyhead Harpies: her birthday present from her dad, who'd managed to get V.I.P tickets and passes to the changing rooms after the match from someone at the Ministry.

Ron sauntered over to the water's edge and picked up some stones. Hermione watched as he drew back his hand and flicked his wrist, letting the stone bounce along the surface of the lake. Hermione really didn't know what to do with herself. She'd never been good at skimming stones as a child but she thought it would hurt Ron if she sat with Harry instead.

She sighed and walked to the bottom of the bank and stood beside Ron. He seemed almost surprised to see her but he didn't comment on it. He shifted another stone from his left hand to his right and threw it. Pure concentration was etched on his face. He caught Hermione watching him and shot her that lopsided smile of his.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just…" Hermione's voice trailed off. She didn't have the heart to say what was really on her mind. The silence that stretched between them – even with Harry sat nearby – seemed a little uncomfortable. And if that told her anything it was that this whole 'break' fiasco of theirs had changed them as friends. Hermione didn't know if they'd ever be quite as close as they'd always been because of it, and if it was awkward before she'd even told Ron her decision, she dreaded to think what it was going to be like in September.

She couldn't bear the prospect of losing such a close friend, so she decided to gain back as much familiarity as possible while she and Ron still _had_ a friendship. She began preparing a lie to answer his question, but he did that for her.

"It's just that you're annoyed because I can do something that you can't," he said with a smile that made Hermione think he'd just been reading her mind. That he understood her thoughts.

Whatever the case, she decided to go along with it. She rolled her eyes teasingly and smiled at him. "You know me too well," she said.

Ron laughed and skimmed his third stone. The smile fell from Hermione's face when Ron handed her the last one. Her eyes were filled with horror when she met his gaze.

"Oh no, Ron, I'm not going to humiliate myself by-."

"Oh come on, it's easy," Ron picked up another stone off the ground and skimmed it, making sure to slow down the movement of his arm and wrist in order to demonstrate to her. The stone bounced three times before disappearing into the water completely. "See," Ron said, obviously feeling very proud that he was the one doing the teaching for once.

"Ron I can't-"

"'Course you can," he said. "Here, watch again." He picked up another stone and repeated the demonstration, this time narrating as he did so. "Swish-," he drew back his arm. "-And flick," he flicked his wrist and released the stone. He chuckled to himself, but stopped laughing when he saw Hermione looking at him with an arched eyebrow and narrowed eyes.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," Ron said weakly.

"Git," Hermione replied, though she couldn't stop a small smile from escaping. "All right," she shook out her arms and took a breath, composing herself. Biting down on her lower lip and knitting her brows in concentration, she turned her body sideways to the lake, drew her arm back and flicked the stone from her hand. It didn't bounce, just hit the water and sank with an unsatisfying 'plop' sound.

Hermione swore, and Ron laughed. "How come that didn't work?" she demanded in frustration.

Ron shrugged. "Relax, it was your first try. Do it again."

Hermione picked up a stone and threw it. The same thing happened. She swore again, but louder.

"That's it, I give up," she threw her hands in the air in defeat and turned her back on the lake, about to storm off and sit beside Harry when Ron's hand caught her upper-arm and spun her around. It lingered there for a moment, and Hermione looked at his hand with a mask of indifference.

Ron immediately pulled away and cleared his throat. "You give up too easily, Mione," he said. He was obviously referring to skimming stones, but Hermione was all too aware of the hidden undertones of his words.

"Try again," Ron said quietly, handing her another stone. This time Hermione obeyed without complaint, lost in thought (again). She stood side-on to the lake and pulled back her right arm slowly. Just when she was about to let the stone fly, she felt Ron's presence behind her. Without speaking, he reached around Hermione's body and lightly gripped her wrist in his hand. The positioning automatically meant that his cheek was very close to hers.

Hermione's breath quickened; she couldn't deny that being with Ron now felt… nice. It was the closest (in more ways than one) that they'd been in so many days that she hadn't realised just how distanced she'd become from him lately.

She didn't shake Ron off, and let him control the movements of her arm. She released the stone, and it bounced one, two, three, four times on the water. Then, it was gone, and Ron released her. Hermione turned but Ron was still rooted to the spot, only inches away from her.

Hermione looked into Ron's eyes. She wanted to speak but her mouth wouldn't work. She didn't know what she would say, anyway, so it was probably for the best. Ron slowly reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips grazing her cheeks ever so slightly as he did so. Harry, still sitting only a metre or two away from them, was forgotten. The _world_ was forgotten, until a twig snapped and Hermione whipped her head to the side.

"Draco?" she asked, immediately walking away from Ron and towards the blond; which in hindsight probably wasn't the best move. "What are you doing here?"

'_Draco_?' Ron mouthed to Harry, his forehead crinkled with confusion and dismay.

"Dumbledore wants to see you and me in his office," Draco said, his voice was void of emotion and his eyes were as unreadable as ever. It was too formal, too… unfamiliar and cold. Hermione bit her lip. "Apparently it's our turn for that pointless meeting about how we're finding his ingenious selection system or whatever," Draco rolled his eyes, but he was speaking so quietly as if he didn't want Harry and Ron to know what he was saying. Hell, even Hermione couldn't really hear and she was standing right in front of him.

"Okay," Hermione said. "Well I'll just say goodbye to Harry and Ron and then I'll walk with-."

"Don't bother, I'll see you up there," Draco said, turning on his heel and marching off in a manner that was completely different to how Hermione had grown used to seeing him lately. He was certainly going all out with staying out of her way. If anything Hermione should be happy that things between them were back to normal, but instead she was left feeling rejected and confused, and confused _about_ feeling rejected.

She turned back to face Harry and Ron, giving both boys an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry, I've got to go," she said. Before either of them could say something in return, she was already running across the grass to catch up with Draco.

Ron let out a long breath. He sat beside Harry and collapsed backwards so he was looking up at the sky. "How much of that did you see, mate?" he asked.

"All of it," Harry replied.

"Do you think she…?" Ron didn't even know how to finish that question, but Harry answered it anyway, knowing that it was kindest to be honest to his friend instead of beating around the bush and ultimately risk hurting him more in the long run.

"I think she misses you," Harry said finally. "But, probably not in the way you're hoping for."

"I had a funny feeling you were gonna say that," Ron sighed. He hauled himself up. "Are you about done with your letter?"

"Yeah, just about," Harry said. "Do you want to come with me to post it?"

Ron nodded and stood up, with Harry not far behind him. They turned and started walking away from the lake when something hit Ron on the back of the head.

"Ouch, what the bloody hell was that?" he turned, and saw a stone lying on the ground. It was wet, and Ron looked up just in time to see a tentacle of the giant squid disappearing under the surface.

Harry laughed. "You must've ticked him off with all of your rock throwing."

"Yeah," Ron said, picking the stone up and examining it. It was the same one he and Hermione had thrown together. He secretly pocketed it and caught up to Harry. "After we post your letter can we please get something to eat? I'm bloody starving."

"What else is new?" Harry smiled.

* * *

Draco cursed under his breath when he heard light footsteps, and panting, approaching fast from behind.

"Draco!" Hermione's voice called out.

He chose to ignore her and carried on, leaving her no option but to continue running after him. She only twigged on to his deliberate ignorance once he'd reached the castle.

"Draco, I know you heard me," she yelled, but her voice was laboured and breathy.

He finally stopped and turned around. "Bloody hell, how unfit _are_ you?"

"I don't exactly do much exercise," Hermione said matter-of-factly, gripping a stitch in her left side.

"I figured," Draco drawled.

He had no choice but to let her tag along beside him once he'd caught up, knowing how fiery and stubborn her attitude was. Plus, there was little point of storming off when he'd end up in the same room as her soon, anyway.

"Are you okay?" she asked after a while.

"What's it to you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, after everything you've ever told me, you're going to be difficult about this now?"

Draco bit his cheek. What had annoyed him? Apparently it had been the sight of Weasley with his hands all over Hermione. But that was ridiculous; he couldn't be jealous of someone he didn't even like, let alone fancy. And his plan had been going so well…

"Yes, I am," he snapped. Hermione actually flinched at such an abrupt response but Draco didn't care – shouldn't care – about that. "You want to know why, hm? Because there is no reason for us," he gestured between himself and Hermione, "to be associating with one another anymore."

Hermione glared at him and pushed his hand away from her roughly. "Don't condescend me, Draco," she had just about been able to command some power into her voice in the aftermath of her shock. "I know you've been avoiding me today because it was part of your plan to-"

"This isn't _about_ the plan, Granger," Draco drawled in his rich voice.

"Oh so it's back to 'Granger' now, is it?" Hermione demanded. He'd still called her by her last name on the odd occasion lately but it was never in such an unfriendly way. "Now that I helped you get back on good terms with mummy you're just going to -."

It was like a fire was lit behind Draco's grey irises. He turned towards Hermione and backed her up against the wall, which he slammed with the palm of his hand just beside her head. Despite her determination, Hermione wasn't able to mask her heavy breathing or fear in her eyes.

"I never asked for your bloody help, Granger," he said in a dangerously low voice. "You were the one who kept stalking and harassing me to try and fish that information out of me at every bloody chance you got."

Hermione realised bringing Narcissa into this argument had been a very wrong move. In any case she was just surprised Draco hadn't yet decided to draw his wand and threaten her in some way.

"I didn't harass you," she said through gritted teeth.

"Well, that's what it looked like: Bookworm Granger just has to know everything about bloody everyone."

Hermione put her hand against his chest and shoved, but Draco didn't budge. "And believe it or not, I was bloody concerned for you! How many times do I have to tell you that to make it sink into your brain?"

The ferocity in Draco's face diminished slightly, but that signature scowl of his still remained.

"I know you were," he said, a little begrudgingly. "But I still meant what I said: there is no reason for us to be associating with one another after I finally told you everything. I assumed that thanking you for that earlier today would be me drawing a line under it."

"But what about-?"

Draco sighed. "Like I said, we only need associate because of the competition and if we ever need to discuss… you know, again."

"So what, you're just going to pretend that we were never-"

Draco put a hand over Hermione's mouth. "I swear to Merlin if you finish that sentence with the word 'friends', I'm going to hex you."

Hermione wrenched his hand away. "So what if I was? I know you telling me about last year didn't make us friends but I thought we were getting… somewhere. I mean, at least being civil and acknowledging each other has to be better than going back to how things were."

"I just thought a sense of familiarity is what we both wanted," Draco said. He found it terribly ironic that he had to _persuade_ her to stay away from him. "It's what I want."

"But why?" Hermione asked. "Merlin, Draco, the whole bloody reason we are here," she threw her arms wide, gesturing to the interior of the castle. "Is to put the past behind us and promote new connections that would never have been acceptable under Voldemort's control. What harm is there in leading by example?"

The image of Hermione and Ron together at the lake flashed through Draco's mind. To answer her question, the harm was his sanity. He needed to stop being so dependent on her, and if that didn't happen and she ended up with Weasel again, he was screwed, because that meant him not being able to act on any feelings at all. Although, that could benefit him, in a way.

Why was it so hard for him to tell her that he needed her to stay away from him so he could find himself independently again?

_Because you don't want her to stay away… _

And there came that prick of an inner conscience again. Draco rolled his eyes upwards and sneered as if glaring at his own brain.

After that he just pushed himself off the wall and continued on down the corridor, leaving her question unanswered.

Hermione just glared after him. She decided to give him what he wanted (for once); she drew her back straight and held her head high in the air in that self-righteous manner she knew annoyed Draco so much.

She flounced past him. As Draco watched her bushy head bob against her shoulders, he couldn't quite work out if Hermione had backed down so easily to save her pride, or because she understood. Draco hoped it weren't the latter, because if she was doing this as a favour instead of a punishment, it wouldn't make him feel much better.

Unfortunately for Draco, he hung back too much, as Hermione had already disappeared past the gargoyle when he reached the entrance to the headmaster's office.

"I'm with her, you can let me in," he said.

The statue didn't move.

"Bastard," Draco muttered. He then started racking his brains, saying any kind of sweet he knew of to the gargoyle.

"Sugar quills, lemon drops, liquorice snaps, acid pops…"

Nothing worked. Draco scowled as he imagined the triumphant smirk that was bound to be adorning Hermione's face in that moment, as she evidently knew the password whilst he didn't. He felt like an idiot saying these things.

"Hairy haggis pastilles, popping lollipops, fairy fudge, rainbow drops, bloody edible unicorn glitter! Just let me in!"

The gargoyle jumped to the side, allowing Draco access. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he stepped onto the spiral staircase. Just now he'd been making up his own combinations of words that could sound remotely like a sweet. Either there was such a thing as 'edible unicorn glitter', or the headmaster didn't actually have a password since it was the summer holidays, and therefore had been listening in on everything, manipulating him into saying something ridiculous before allowing him access.

_Conniving old coot, _Draco thought during his ascent.

"That was hardly bloody fair," Draco snapped after letting himself into the circular office.

Dumbledore seemed unperturbed by his outburst. "Ah Mr Malfoy," he said calmly. "How nice of you to join us."

Hermione glanced up at him briefly from her seat, biting her lip. Though this was a common trait of hers, Draco was convinced she was doing it to hide her laughter.

"Would you care for some edible unicorn glitter before we begin?" Dumbledore enquired, gesturing to a bowl of something that sat at his side.

"Er… no?" Draco frowned, for a split-second regretting his earlier assumption. But then the headmaster and Hermione shared a look at that point that almost had them bursting into laughter. Draco scowled at the floor. If only his father weren't currently incarcerated in Azkaban, then they'd be sorry. He walked over and sat in the chair beside Hermione's.

"Let's just get this over with," he said, trying to regain some composure and dignity.

"Very well," Dumbledore reached to the side, and placed what Draco had first presumed to be a bowl on the desk. It was a cauldron.

"What's that, sir?" Hermione asked, evidently as confused as Draco was. "Don't you want to ask us questions about this selection system?"

A mischievous glint entered Dumbledore's eyes. "Oh no, Miss Granger, the other professors and I had already agreed to carry out a survey like that at the very end. I was afraid you'd never come if you were told the real reason for bringing you – bringing all of the other pairs – up here."

"And that reason is?" Draco prompted, all of a sudden feeling a sense of dread.

"Your next task," Dumbledore replied. "A _secret_ task to determine just how well you know your partner."

"Didn't we already prove that in that quiz?" Draco asked. So much for staying out of Hermione's way...

"Yes, but this is the advanced level, if you will Mr Malfoy."

Both Draco and Hermione gulped.

"I feel that identifying this potion will explain a lot of things without me having to explain much," Dumbledore said. "In case you were wondering, this was what was brewing in the Potions classroom when you did your first proper task; the thing you were all told explicitly not to approach. I must stress that secrecy is a key element in this test."

Hermione and Draco leaned over the desk, their eyes falling on the thick muddy concoction in the cauldron. Hermione's stomach dropped to the floor, whilst Draco was a little slower on the update in identifying it.

Polyjuice Potion.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: **Sorryyy that was really mean of me. I promise there won't be a cliffy next chapter :)


	12. The Swap

**A/N: **Hey everyone! First of all, I want to reiterate how happy I am to see that you're enjoying this story. Every review makes me smile (even the ones that say you hate me because of the cliffy's :P). It's amazing to have such loyal followers - thank you! x

**Warning:** Do not attempt to read this chapter if you are tired or if your brain is not fully engaged :P The chapter is a bit shorter than the last couple, but it's going to take more concentration to read. If it helps (probably not), every time it reads "Hermione said" imagine Draco's voice saying it, but in Hermione's attitude and vice-versa. (Tis the problem with body-swap stuff).

Anyway, this chapter is quite a fun one, and I hope you enjoy it! :)

* * *

**12**

**:. The Swap .:**

Hermione clenched her eyes shut as the thick liquid slowly descended down her throat. It was unpleasant, just as she remembered it to be from her second year, but it didn't make her want to vomit this time like the cat hair did. She supposed Draco's hair didn't taste too bad; it seemed to take away some of the bitter after taste, too, so that was a bonus. She'd never tell him this, of course; the last thing that boy needed was an ego-boost.

Then again, it could have made a difference that several blond strands had been added to her cup instead of just one; she'd yanked out his hair herself as a warning to behave and not mess with Ron or Harry whilst in her body. Suffice it to say, she'd gotten a bit carried away.

Her eyes remained tightly shut as Hermione felt her body changing. She grew a few inches in height, her hips narrowed and her hair seemed to get sucked back into her skull. Other areas were reduced too, and Hermione looked down at her now completely flat chest with a sigh. Whilst she'd never been overly top-heavy, she still missed her more feminine attributes now that they were gone.

The sensation of changing wasn't very nice, but it felt good to grow into Draco's clothes now, which had been incredibly baggy to start with. For possibly the first time in her life, Hermione cursed herself for not being a girly-girl who wore tiny mini-skirts or puffy pink dresses. Just thinking about Draco in such an outfit made her giggle, but the laughter died as soon as Hermione heard the deep voice that came out of her mouth.

"What in the name of Merlin's balls was that?" Hermione did a double take when she heard her own voice coming from the adjoining cubicle that Dumbledore had conjured so they could change – in more ways than one – in privacy.

She yanked the curtain across the rail and stood in front of the one that Draco was currently behind, tapping her foot disapprovingly. She almost stumbled walking these few steps; her whole centre of gravity was completely wrong now.

"Malfoy," she said commandingly in Draco's voice.

"What?" her own voice replied derisively. The curtain was pulled back and Hermione came face-to-face with… herself. It would have been just like looking in a mirror if it weren't for the moody snarl that was now curling her lip and wrinkling her nose.

"I won't have you speaking so crudely when you are in my body," she berated in Draco's voice but her own snappish tone, wagging one of his long, pale fingers in her own face. "It's all wrong."

She watched herself scoff and roll her eyes. "Oh, and you think that prissy tone and giggling suits _me_, do you?" Draco, looking and sounding like Hermione, began fidgeting and squirming as he fingered random areas around his - really her - upper back. "How the hell can girls wear bras? They're so bloody restraining and uncomfortable."

"Well, you certainly aren't going to go without one," she widened Draco's grey eyes in horror.

She watched herself smirk, which looked completely amiss. "You're right," he said. "I wouldn't want to mentally scar anyone."

"Draco!" Hermione snapped, causing Draco's usually low voice to sound shrill and feminine. Then she blushed as a thought crossed her mind. Draco – being the larger of the two of them – wouldn't have had the luxury of putting Hermione's clothes on before taking the potion, and that meant… Hermione shuddered. No: it wasn't unfeasible for Draco to have tried to maintain her dignity and be respectful by suffering the discomfort of her ill-fitting clothes for a few seconds. Right?

She sighed and wiped her – really Draco's – face with one of her (his) hands. Who was she kidding? Draco always put himself first. He had seen her naked, end of story. She may as well just go and throw herself off the Astronomy Tower to save herself from the shame of it all.

"Ugh," her voice came. Hermione looked down at herself – Merlin, she _was_ quite short - and saw her face crinkled in disapproval. "Don't blush when you look like me. It's bloody horrible," Draco's slow drawl was spoken in Hermione's voice. It made her sound far too Slytherin.

"If you wouldn't mind," Dumbledore cut in. "I'd like to quickly explain the task."

Draco and Hermione did another quick scan of the other in their respective bodies and approached the headmaster's desk again, both wobbling very awkwardly on legs that didn't usually belong to them. At one point they collided, and ended up just holding each other around the waist and supporting each other for the remaining few steps.

It was very bizarre for Hermione to be holding her own waist, and have her own hands touching her (as Draco). It was like an extreme role-play; she was seeing herself through his eyes (literally).

"Okay," Dumbledore said. "The other professors and I felt that a test like this could be very effective in creating a deeper empathy and understanding between each pair. Literally becoming each other will do wonders in making your relationship with each other more harmonious. The key element to this task is secrecy, for you will be in amongst your fellow candidates."

"Easy enough," Draco commented. His attitude really didn't make Hermione look like… well, herself. And that's what told her what the real challenge of this test was going to be.

"I'm guessing we need to convince everyone else that nothing's different, so we have to act as well as look like each other." She said.

"Precisely, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he looked at her in Draco's body.

Draco looked at Hermione smile in the way only a teacher's pet would do. Unfortunately for her, the way his body naturally smiled made it seem more like his signature smirk.

"Not bad Granger," he said in Hermione's voice, cocking one of her brows.

He watched as the smirk fell from his face, and that blush returned. He rolled Hermione's eyes. They were going to fail this test for sure.

"Yes," Dumbledore went on. "It may be wise for the two of you tell one another how to be… well, yourselves. How well you do in this task will depend on how effectively you can act as each other, so this will be beneficial to your communication skills. In other words: don't rouse the other candidates' suspicions. Although that could prove tricky in some cases; a couple of them have already done this."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "Who?"

Dumbledore smiled. "There was a reason why I made sure Mr Malfoy," he gestured to where 'Hermione' now sat, "didn't allow Mr Potter or Mr Weasley to overhear him telling you why you needed to come up here."

"Oh my gosh," Hermione covered her mouth to stop the laughter. "Was it Harry or-?"

"Yes, Mr Potter and Miss Greengrass did this test a few days ago."

Hermione chewed her (Draco's) lip, and suddenly remembered that day when Harry was acting moody and strange; how he didn't recall the fight she'd had with Ron only the day before, and how Daphne hung around her so much… how she seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable in her mini skirt…

_Harry wore a mini skirt!_

And with that, the laughter escaped Hermione. Of course, it wasn't her laugh she heard; it was Draco's. She had no idea how she was going to cope with showing zero emotion for a whole hour. Merlin, how was _he_ going to cope being as animated as she was?

"So does that mean I'm banned from talking to Potter?" Draco smiled, causing Hermione's face to light up with the relief and joy of such a thought.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "This needs to be fair for everyone, so the results wouldn't be that reliable if you associated with people who've already taken part. In fact, I'd like you to try and stick with Mr Weasley, Mr Malfoy. Miss Granger, you stay with Mr Zabini. Neither of them have done this yet, plus they are your close friends so nothing will be out of the ordinary."

Hermione's lips pouted; Draco thought it was going to be torture having to hang around Weasley and refrain from insulting him or openly showing his dislike for him. Draco's face on the other hand, showed complete bemusement; on the contrary, Hermione thought this whole thing was out of the ordinary.

"Wait," she said. "What's happening about the last pair? The fourteen of us will already know what's going on."

Her voice scoffed, and Hermione turned her head just in time to see her brown eyes rolling in her skull. She was a position where she was giving _herself_ a condescending glare.

"That's hardly any concern of ours, Granger," she said in what was unmistakeably Draco's attitude.

"Shut up," she curled Draco's lip in a sneer.

"Well then, the environment will be different," Dumbledore explained. "The test will be carried out on some kind of family visit where both candidates will be present, I'd imagine."

_I'd imagine? _Hermione knitted her (Draco's) brows. Had the headmaster even thought this whole thing through?

"I think that's all you need to know," Dumbledore said. "The potion will wear off in ninety minutes. Take thirty minutes to practice acting like one another, and then stay with your peers for the hour. When that time is up, come back here. Off you go, and good luck," he smiled cheerily at them and fed Fawkes something that looked like lemon sherbet.

"So I guess we ought to teach each other one or two things," Hermione said as she left with Draco.

Hermione heard her own voice grunt back in an unenthusiastic response. Draco was making her ooze Slytherin arrogance, which would be a dead give-away to the others.

"Oh come on!" Hermione smirked - now _that _sounded like Draco – "Don't give me the silent treatment now. This is important!"

"It's not that," Draco snapped back, jiggling from foot to foot. "I need to piss."

Though Hermione cringed at the sound of that word leaving her mouth, she couldn't help but realise that she was bursting too.

Why on earth did she choose to run after Draco when she could have taken a leisurely toilet break before heading to the office?

_Priorities, Hermione. Priorities…_

* * *

"Just… don't look, okay?" she said as they reached the bathrooms.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Draco assured her.

Hermione had no choice but to take his word, but she actually found herself having confidence that he'd keep it, which took her completely by surprise.

She entered the boys' bathroom, wild-eyed and stiff as a board. She felt like she was seriously invading people's privacy even though she knew only seven other boys were currently in the castle. What's more, there was a bathroom _in_ the common room, so it was highly unlikely she'd encounter anyone. It did cross her mind to just use the girls' for this very reason, but that felt wrong somehow. She was parading around as a boy, after all.

She stopped in her tracks when her eyes fell upon the line of urinals in front of her. The notion of boys being comfortable to pee in front of each other was completely beyond her; Hermione even had insecurities about other girls just_ hearing_ her pee. The very idea that Harry and Ron could have peed in front of each other on multiple occasions made her cringe.

She immediately scurried into one of the stalls and locked the door, fumbling with Draco's belt with clumsy fingers. This was all very inappropriate and invasive, but Hermione was sure Draco wouldn't want her to wet herself whilst in his body in front of everyone.

After coming to the conclusion that sitting down like usual was just plain awkward and impractical, Hermione went about things 'the man's way', all the while staring pointedly at the ceiling and chanting 'Don't look down' to herself over and over again.

It felt like the longest pee she'd ever had in her life, but somehow Hermione pulled through with Draco's dignity still in tact. She washed his hands a little longer than necessary – why was his skin so damn soft? – And left the bathroom with a sense of accomplishment and relief.

She started picking at Draco's nails waiting for him to emerge from the girl's lavatories. After a while she saw herself leaving the bathroom with a smile.

"Well that was a treat," Draco declared in Hermione's body, smirking somewhat.

Hermione swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"

Draco let out a small laugh. "Relax Granger, it's not what you're thinking. I'm talking about how girls pee: sitting down! It's like a holiday."

* * *

After a brief and surreal discussion-cum-debate about the bathroom habits of boys and girls, Draco and Hermione entered the nearest classroom to begin their quick lesson. They'd only been at it two minutes and already they were getting on each other's nerves.

"Wrong," Draco said as Hermione walked the length of the room for the fourth time.

She took the book off her (Draco's) head and huffed in annoyance. "What did I do wrong that time?"

"You're still slouching too much," Draco replied in Hermione's voice. "Draw your back completely straight. Make yourself look taller and superior to certain short Gryffindors-"

"I'm not that short," Hermione snapped. "I'm just below average for a girl my age."

"In other words: short," Draco rolled his eyes, doing his best to refrain making an inappropriate comment around the phrase 'below average'. "And I think there's substantial evidence to prove my point."

"And what's that then?"

Draco, who was sitting on the edge of a desk, simply gestured to his (Hermione's) legs, which were dangling a good few inches off the ground.

"Shut up," Hermione berated. She took a breath, replaced the book and started walking again.

"Stop," her voice sighed dramatically.

"What now?" Hermione snapped in a way that would definitely pass for being Malfoy.

"You're not a girl anymore, quit swinging your hips," Draco said with an air of disdain.

"Well I'm sorry but after almost seventeen years it's become a bit of a habit," she said dryly. "I don't know why you have to walk in such an uptight way; it's really hurting my muscles having to keep them so tense all the time," she rolled her head to stretch out her neck.

"_Your_ muscles?" Draco cocked a brow.

"You now what I mean," she said dismissively. "Go on then, you try and walk like a girl if you're so clever."

"Fine," Draco stubbornly accepted her challenge even though he didn't really have much of a clue how to walk forwards whilst moving his hips from side to side at the same time. It just didn't sound natural.

Hermione took Draco's position on the desk (where her feet easily made contact with the floor) and waited. Sure enough, Draco over-evaluated the degree of movement that was required, and strutted across the room like a drunk prostitute would do.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Merlin, dial it down," she said. "You look like a duck."

"This is ridiculous," Draco fumed. "How the hell are we ever going to do this?"

"Harry and Daphne managed," Hermione shrugged. "Sure they acted kind of strange, but Harry passed for a girl." Just then, inspiration struck, and she knew Draco wasn't going to continue making a fool out of himself unless he was coaxed. "Are you going to let Harry beat you, Draco?" she baited.

"Stop it," he said. "I know what you're trying to do."

"I'm not trying to do anything," she said coyly.

"Don't play the innocent act, _especially_ when you're in my body," Draco grumbled.

"Then don't play the sulky poor-little-rich-boy act in mine," she countered.

"Bloody hell. Fine!" Draco stomped back across the room and tried walking again.

"Quack quack," Hermione said, cracking a grin. She couldn't help but laugh when Draco gave her the finger. "Jeez, I was only joking. It was better, but you need to relax your shoulders."

Draco didn't like this one bit; he felt like his head felt twice as heavy now that he was slackening the support in his spine and shoulders. He rubbed a particularly sore part of Hermione's neck, his fingers becoming tangled in her hair. His face contorted slightly.

"What's up now?" His voice sighed tiredly as Hermione asked the question.

"My… I mean _your_ neck is bloody boiling with all this hair. I'm practically sweating. It's disgusting."

"Well that's why I usually tie it up in summer," she replied. "I keep a band around my wrist just in case."

Draco looked at Hermione's slender wrist and caught sight of it. He removed it and played the small, elastic hoop absently. His priority was to try and figure out how girls actually tied their hair up, but for one thing, he didn't feel like admitting such a weakness in his knowledge, and he was being slowly overcome by this masculine urge to stretch the band over his fingers and flick it at something. His first target in mind was Hermione, but she'd been granted immunity from such things whilst she occupied his body: Draco didn't want to risk damaging his flawless complexion.

"Do you want me to do that for you?" Such a polite offer being spoken in his voice really sounded wrong.

Draco's instinct had been to decline; he was already depending on her so much that he didn't want to dig himself into an even deeper hole, but he conceded that it could very well take the whole hour for him to work out how to do it alone. He just grunted and held the band out to Hermione, silently bidding goodbye to his pride as she shuffled onto the desk behind him. She took the band from him and set to work on plaiting her hair.

Hermione, in Draco's body, couldn't help but grimace at how much of a mess her hair looked from the back. After seeing the state of it in her third year after using the Time Turner, she'd hoped the frizz would have calmed down a little as she aged. She'd been wrong.

She sucked back her disappointment and started separating the curly mass. Knowing her own hair very well, she parted it easily. The actual process of working the sections into a plait was more time consuming, as Draco's fingers were longer and therefore less nimble than her own. She did her best to get it over with quickly, though; Godric only knew what a passer-by would make of the sight of Draco Malfoy tying up Hermione Granger's hair for her.

By the time she was finished they were eating into their test hour, so they decided to give each other speech lessons on the way to the common room.

"You need to really enunciate Granger," Draco said. "And slow down, for Salazar's sake. I may walk in an uptight way, but you have the voice to match. Everything you say is always so rushed."

"It is not!"

"Oh really?" Draco cleared his (Hermione's) throat. "Youfoulloathsomeevillittlecockroach!" With the speed at which he spoke and the choppy and shrill tone he used, it did sound eerily like Hermione.

"Arse," Hermione said.

They continued walking in silence for a while, until Draco spoke again. "Listen, I just want you to know I didn't see anything, earlier. I suffered near-suffocation in your tiny clothes – including your bra, I might add – so you don't have to worry about your prudish dignity being tainted by me. I respect your privacy."

Hermione blinked in surprise, not really knowing how he knew what she'd been worried about earlier. She was so shocked that she didn't even laugh at the thought of Draco in her bra. She was sure to keep it stored in her brain for a time later on, though. Even Draco didn't know exactly why he said anything; he just felt like he owed her something, and he hated that.

"Oh, well, thank you," she said.

"Oh yes, I was a perfect gentleman," Draco replied. "I mean I might have sneaked a squeeze or two-"

"You didn't," Hermione's eyes flared with panic and anger.

Draco just laughed. "Merlin, just take a joke, would you?"

"I would if the joke was funny," Hermione countered.

Draco smirked; Hermione just scowled and marched off with her nose in the air.

"There you go Granger: that's the superior attitude I was talking about," her voice called after her.

Hermione shook her head to herself, and tried to gather her wits as the common room door grew closer and closer. She paused before entering, and turned back to Draco. She gave him a curt nod as if silently bidding him luck, and walked inside.

Her focus lasted all but two seconds. She caught Ernie's eye across the room and smiled at him. She was unsure what brought on his confused expression for a while before she remembered she was Draco, and that meant fighting all of her natural instincts.

"What are _you_ looking at, Mack?" she thought her tone was incredibly forced, but it seemed to fool Ernie, all the same. After all, it was just the type of hypocritical thing Draco would say after being the one to establish eye contact in the first place.

She kept her back drawn tall and straight as she stepped deeper into the room, all the while scanning around as she looked for Blaise. She took in the irresolute expressions of the people she considered to be friends of hers: Ernie, Padma, Susan, Terry, Hannah… and gulped. Their stares were calculated and cautious like one would look at a dangerous and unpredictable or unstable wild animal. Hermione felt her palms grow hot under their scrutiny, all of a sudden realising just what Draco had meant by people tiptoeing around him. In a way she couldn't see how he'd managed to ignore it, or at least mask his annoyance, so well.

Then there was Justin, who was practically snarling at her with hate-filled eyes. Hermione was quite disturbed by the fact that she'd never seen Justin look at Draco like this before; she'd probably have considered it as just a run-of-the-mill glare as an outsider. But now that she _was_ Draco, she knew better.

She wanted more than anything to drag Justin away and set the record straight so that maybe he'd find it within himself to forgive a little, or at least, acknowledge that Draco has suffered more than enough about something he wasn't even at fault for. But she knew that it wasn't her place, and simply opted to sneer at the Hufflepuff. Justin seemed taken aback by it (apparently Draco still refused to fight back even now, which surprised Hermione), but he didn't comment.

It didn't take long for Hermione to find Blaise; he and Lavender were inhaling each other's faces, as usual, and Hermione had no choice but to sink into the armchair beside them. She curled her lip in disgust (this time, not even doing it to keep up the 'Draco' act) and scoffed.

"Merlin, take a breath for five seconds, will you?" she drawled.

Blaise looked up at the sound of Draco's voice and chuckled. "Ah, there he is," he said. "My good friend Draco Malfoy, looking as happy and full of rainbows and pixie dust as ever."

"Shut up Zabini," Hermione said.

Blaise smirked. "Is someone pissed because his best friend is getting all the action and all he gets is a ten-second snog from Granger?"

Hermione crinkled up her face. "Ugh, spare me the details, would you?" Only then did she notice that Lavender was staring at her. "What do you want… Daisy, is it?" Hermione recalled the way Draco forgot Lavender's name, once and called her that.

She couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction when Lavender squeaked indignantly. "My name is Lavender, silly," she cooed at him.

"Funny, I always thought it were Daisy," Hermione shrugged. "Forgive me if I'm past caring what your real name is seven years down the line." She smirked in triumph to herself. It seemed that all those evenings spent mocking and imitating Draco with Harry and Ron were paying off.

"Well now that's just rude," Lavender huffed.

"And you're only just realising this about me, now?" Hermione cocked a brow. "Or have you been mistaking me for my polite and fluffy twin Drakey all this time?"

Much to Hermione's annoyance, Lavender didn't get the slightest bit worked up about her sarcastic jibe. Instead, she giggled.

Just then, the door swung open and Hermione watched herself enter the room. All of a sudden Lavender's demeanour changed. "Ugh. I can't imagine what Ron sees in her. What does _she_ have that I don't?"

_A brain, _Hermione thought bitterly to herself, glaring daggers at the back of Lavender's head.

"Forget about Granger and Weasley," Blaise said, cupping Lavender's cheek and turning her head to face him. "You've got me, now."

Lavender sighed sadly before kissing Blaise again. Hermione just pinched the bridge of her (Draco's) nose, dreading that she was going to have to spend the remainder of the hour trying to blank them out.

As luck (or un-luck) would have it, Daphne emerged from her dormitory at that moment. Hermione didn't even notice her until she called to her. "Oi, Malfoy." Hermione froze, and immediately tried to find Draco, who was sitting at one of the tables at the back of the room reading a book. She was rather impressed when he remained focused, and didn't look up when Daphne said his name, although Hermione did sense that he was trying to watch her from his peripheral vision.

"Yes?" she asked Daphne, trying to keep her expression blank.

Daphne said nothing, but twitched her head towards the door as if to say 'follow me'. Hermione really didn't think it was wise, considering Daphne would be more difficult to fool, but she didn't really have much of a choice.

She rose from her chair and walked after Daphne. Once inside her dorm, Hermione shut the door behind her. "What did you want?" she asked. Her (Draco's) voice went quite uncharacteristically shrill just then. She winced, but Daphne didn't seem to notice.

"Well by the look on your face I figured you might kill yourself unless someone rescued you from those two" she answered with a laugh.

"Er… thanks," Hermione said, trying not to express her bemusement at Daphne Greengrass being nice. She looked around the room and frowned. "Where's Pansy?"

"She's visiting her parents today," Daphne's brows knitted. "Honestly Malfoy, you do have an awful memory. She told us all just this morning."

"Oh," Hermione tried not to blush. "I suppose I've got other things on my mind." As soon as the words left her mouth, Hermione wanted to stuff them back in again.

"Hmm," Daphne pursed her lips. "Come and sit down, Draco. There's some stuff I want to talk to you about."

_Uh-oh, _Hermione gulped. This couldn't be good.

* * *

"Hey, Mione!"

Draco groaned and pretended to be too invested in his book to take notice of Weasley's voice.

_And so begins the torture, _Draco thought to himself.

"You okay?" Ron asked as he took the seat opposite Draco.

"I'm just spiffing," he said sarcastically, before realising that this wasn't a strictly Granger thing to say. Then again, just because he had to endure Weasel's company didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

"What's the matter?" Ron asked.

"Nothing."

"Mione, I've known you long enough to be able to tell when you're lying."

Draco openly rolled his eyes, which he knew very well was one of Hermione's little mannerisms. "I'm fine," he snapped, refusing to address the ginger boy by his first name.

"But -."

Draco racked his brain, trying to think of some excuse that could justify how moody he was making Hermione seem. He blurted the first thing that sprung to mind.

"_Cramps_!"

He secluded a smirk as he watched Ron's ears turn a bright scarlet, and he looked away in embarrassment. Now he came to think about it, Draco silently thanked Salazar that it actually wasn't Hermione's time of the month. He didn't even want to think about what would have happened, if that were the case.

"Oh, er… blimey… right," Ron said awkwardly, poking an abandoned deck of Exploding Snap cards with his wand.

And then there was silence, which Draco found to be very enjoyable. At least now he wasn't in a position where he'd have to talk and be disgustingly nice to Weasley. Even if nobody would know he wasn't really Hermione, Draco still felt like a good deal of his pride would be stripped away by the end of this experience.

"Well that's fair enough," Ron said. "But I just need to know; you aren't upset about earlier, are you?" He secretly fingered the stone that was still in his pocket under the table.

Draco's brain became filled once again with the mental image of Hermione and Weasley cuddling up and skimming stones on the Black Lake. Without even thinking, Draco just replied. "Yes, I am, actually."

"Oh," Ron cast his gaze to the table in defeat. "Can I ask why?"

Draco tried not to roll his eyes at how pathetic Weasley was being. He probably over-stepped the line saying something like that, but it had just been impulse, and he was led by it.

"We're on a break," Draco said, recalling what Hermione had previously told him on the odd occasion. "That shouldn't have happened. This is supposed to be my time to think and you trying to sway me like that was just-"

"I wasn't bloody _trying_ to do anything!" Ron replied, visibly hurt by Draco's accusation. "It just happened, Mione." Draco's blood ran cold, and his eyes widened in horror when Ron reached across the table and took his – Hermione's – hand. Never in a million years did he ever imagine he'd end up in a situation where he and Weasley would be holding hands. Draco told himself to keep calm and not punch Ron in the face.

"Wea," Draco cleared his throat. He pulled his hand away forcefully. "Stop. Just stop." Merlin knew he wasn't saying that for Hermione's benefit that time. "Where's Po… Harry?" Draco asked. Never before had he wished so much for Potter's presence.

"Shower," Ron mumbled, somewhat sulkily. Draco felt no sympathy for him: aside from the obvious reasons why, the others were just down to the fact that it was Ron's own fault. If he didn't want to get shot down then he shouldn't have asked. Simple.

Draco turned his head at the sound of a door opening behind him. He watched as Daphne and Hermione stepped out of the former's dormitory. He cocked an eyebrow, wondering what they'd been talking about in there.

Apparently watching them for so long was the wrong move; when he turned back around Ron was glaring daggers at 'Draco' and Daphne sitting on the plush sofa opposite Lavender and Blaise. Draco knew very well what Ron was thinking, but frankly he couldn't be bothered to say anything more; he'd wasted enough breath on him.

It was unbelievably tempting to get up and walk right over to where his friends (and Hermione) were sitting, but Draco knew that somehow, Dumbledore would know how well they were handling this task, and begrudgingly decided against it. He stared blankly at the open book, and thought about the possibilities. Did he have one of the professors posing as a student under the influence of Polyjuice, too? Only Merlin knew; that man was just as scheming as any Slytherin.

"What are you reading?" Ron asked as he attempted to build bridges he unwittingly destroyed a few moments ago.

"_Witch Weekly_," Draco sighed with sarcasm as he pretended to be engrossed in a thick, dusty tome that could in no way resemble the magazine.

"_Witch_... wait, what?" Ron asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. Until now he'd at least given the Weasel credit that he could differentiate between sarcastic and sincere comments.

"A joke," Draco said, turning a page to keep up his act. He remained oblivious to the fact that he'd just unknowingly dropped Hermione in it in regards to the magazine she'd charmed to look like a text book before leaving The Burrow at the start of the month.

Ron decided to keep his mouth shut on the matter, not wanting to push 'Hermione' any further whilst she was already a bit worked up and… cramping…

He shuddered; thanking the founders that he'd been born male.

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?" Draco ran after Hermione. It had all been going so well until now. He thought they might actually end up getting a good score on this test until Hermione ran out.

"Well I'm sorry but I didn't exactly prepare for Daphne pouncing on me like that."

"You didn't have to slap her, though!" Draco said with a bemused expression. "What the hell am I going to tell her?"

"Oh stop being so dramatic, I only slapped her hand away… which was on my inner-thigh in case you didn't notice." Hermione shuddered.

"To be fair, in Daphne's world, slapping her hand and ruining her manicure is probably worse than one across the face." Draco smirked, running after himself as Hermione walked away in his long strides. "I over-estimated you, Granger. She had her hands over you… er, _me_, for ages before she made a move. I was actually beginning to admire your dedication for a moment, there."

"Still, a prior warning that Daphne had a thing for you would have been nice," Hermione huffed. She whirled around and glared at Draco when he scoffed. "What?"

"Daphne does not and has never had a thing for me, Hermione," Draco said in her voice. "It's Blaise she likes. If I know her as well as I think I do then she just kissed you… _me_… to try and make him jealous."

Hermione had the decency to feel a little foolish; after all, Daphne did have a good rant to her about Blaise before they left her dormitory, so she should have seen it coming. Suddenly all of Daphne's subtle glares and digs at Lavender made so much sense to Hermione.

"Would you have pushed her off if you were… well, you?" she asked, arching a brow.

Draco shook his head. "I'd know it wouldn't mean anything and that she had an ulterior motive, so I'd just go along with it to help her achieve her goal."

"You Slytherins really are messed up," Hermione sighed. She bit her lip at the way her heart contracted noticeably at Draco's admission that he wouldn't have pushed Daphne off.

"Maybe," Draco shrugged. "But I did tell Daphne that I'd help her with Zabini if she needed it; he really is completely oblivious." Draco paused. "In fact, I reckon he likes her too but they're both too proud to admit it. Say what you want about us but just because we're a scheming lot doesn't mean we don't look out for each other."

Hermione felt a little guilty about fleeing the common room now. "Well, Daphne's already done this test so can't you just 'accidentally' let it slip?" she suggested with a wink.

Draco smirked, "Maybe I will," he said. "Mainly because I'd love to see her face when I tell her it was you."

Hermione laughed. "I can't believe you ran after me, though," she said. "You could have just completely screwed us!"

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just pissed at what you did," he paused and smirked. "Good luck trying to explain that one to Weasel."

"Ugh," Hermione groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wrinkled it when Draco's hair fell in front of her eyes. "What the hell am I going to tell him?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know." He took a deep breath and said. "Maybe just say… that we're friends? I mean, as an excuse."

Hermione stopped in her tracks. "What? This is a pretty big step from 'if you finish that sentence with the word 'friends' I'm going to hex you'."

"Hermione, I just told you I was sorry about something," Draco scoffed. "And that's not a word I use very often."

"So, what changed?" she asked.

He shrugged again. "I suppose because you were literally being put in my shoes, which are incredibly expensive, I might add," he said with a smirk. "So I know now that you do really understand what it's like for me, with all the stares and everything, and it hasn't all been Gryffindor bullshit."

"Hey!" Hermione said jokingly. "I don't want any more of this 'pitying you' nonsense, now: I've always been genuinely concerned, believe it or not."

"Deal," Draco smiled; actually smiled – not smirked.

Hermione laughed, and then frowned slightly.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Nothing, it's just, I don't think I've ever heard the sound of you laughing before," Hermione said. "Well, I've heard you maliciously cackle at me too many times to count, but never that genuinely..." she honestly didn't know why she felt the need to add, "It's nice."

Draco frowned, "You've heard me laugh non-spitefully before," he said.

Hermione chewed her lip as they started walking towards Dumbledore's office again. Draco was right; he'd laughed genuinely whilst around her before, but for some reason she'd only just noticed how nice it sounded. It may have been her laughing but it was Draco's voice that came out, and the sound just made her stomach flutter.

It was perhaps just because it proved that the Slytherin wasn't the hollow, unfeeling robot that he presented himself as; it proved he was human and that he had good in him… somewhere. But Hermione had a funny feeling there was more to it than that.

"Draco?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"What you said earlier… about having no reason to associate with each other unless it's for the competition…"

"What about it?"

"Well, does this mean that once we're ourselves again, we're going to go back to pretending the other doesn't exist? Because I'd rather know in advance, if so." Hermione held her breath, not really understanding why it bothered her so much.

"Is that what you want, Hermione?" Draco asked.

Hermione swallowed hard and quietly said. "No. You?"

"Well every time I've tried to ignore you before you've always clawed your way back in again, so I suppose I'm stuck with you," he drawled in Hermione's voice.

"Draco…" she pleaded him to answer seriously, knowing how awkward Slytherins could be when it came to baring their true emotions about something. "Is that your way of saying you don't want us to go back to outwardly hating each other either?"

Draco glanced up at the ceiling; _Merlin, kill me now_.

"Yes," he said. "It is."

_To be continued…_


	13. The Jellybeans

**A/N:** Hey everyone, long time no see... I'm extremely sorry about making you wait two weeks for this, but the first week I had horrible writer's block, and last week I've been busy organising stuff for Uni, and yeah :/ Sorryyy

As ever, thank you all for the lovely reviews and hello my new followers and readers :)

This chapter doesn't get as far as I would have wanted it to, which is disappointing since the end of the chapter was the whole cause of my writer's block. But that's just going to be on chapter 14 now so I'll be keeping you waiting a few days ;) I deliberated for ages about whether I should just put everything in this chapter, but it was 10,000 words altogether - hence why this chapter is only 5,000.

Enjoy!

* * *

**13**

**:. The Jellybeans .:**

"Alright, mate?" Blaise chuckled when Draco, now back to himself again, entered the dormitory.

"Spiffing, Zabini," he drawled, throwing himself onto his bed and stretching out. It felt so good to be back in his own body. "You?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Blaise said.

"Good," Draco nodded in his friend's direction.

"So," Blaise sat in the stolen armchair opposite Draco's bed and leant forwards with his elbows propped on his knees. "You going to tell me what the hell got into you just now?"

"What?" Draco arched a brow for dramatic effect.

"With Daphne," Blaise said. "Merlin, one second you're moping around because I'm the only one out of the two of us who's getting some decent snogging sessions here and the next, you're slapping her away when she makes a move on you. Did you hit your head or something?"

Draco did an internal eye-roll; he still couldn't believe Hermione did that. Although; if Weasley came onto him he'd almost certainly slap him too. Only harder. And more than once. Perhaps even hex him too…

"No," Draco shook his head. "I just don't see her that way, you know?" he said coolly, covering up Hermione's mistake with ease.

"That's never bothered you before," Blaise arched a brow. "What with you messing around with Pansy for the past Merlin-knows-how-many years."

"Yeah, well…" Draco just shrugged. "It just didn't feel right."

Blaise was staring at him like he was speaking in a foreign language. "Whatever, mate," he said. "Just don't go moaning about being alone the next time you're around me and Lavender."

Draco tried not to grimace, "You really aren't bored of her yet?"

"Nah," Blaise waved him off. "Something to do, ain't it?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You do know how clingy she can get, right? Merlin knows what she'll do to you if she found out –"

"Relax. I know for a fact that she's using me to make herself feel better about Weasley," Blaise answered. He regarded Draco steadily for a moment. "Seriously mate, what's gotten into you? You're acting all strait-laced. It's weird."

"You're missing the point," Draco said.

"What point? First you push Daphne off when she was more than willing to give you a good snog. And she is fit; if I were you, I-"

"Well then why don't _you_ snog her?" Draco asked incredulously. He couldn't believe how dim Blaise was being. "I know you have a thing for her. Hell, you've had a thing for her ever since I can remember. Why the bloody hell haven't you done something about it? It's not like you've ever had issues with talking to girls before."

Blaise was completely taken aback by this sudden outburst. "Look, can I trust you not to call me a soppy Hufflepuff?"

"Not at all," Draco smirked. "Go on. Spill it."

"It's so weird," Blaise said. "Because with most girls all I see is their face and their boobs and their arses, but I actually _want_ to listen what Daphne says. I like her personality as well as her… everything else. I didn't even think that was possible."

"Aww, Zabini," Draco grinned.

"Malfoy, don't say it."

"You bloody soppy Hufflepuff."

Blaise yanked the pillow out from behind Draco's head and smacked him in the face with it. The blond just laughed, which annoyed Blaise even more.

"I don't even know why I bothered to tell you any of this," he said. "Besides myself you're the biggest playboy I know."

"On the contrary, Zabini, I don't think you have the right to call yourself a playboy anymore," Draco smirked. "Now you're just a common monogamous Hufflepuff like everyone else."

Blaise flicked his wand and made the pillow smack Draco again. His expression was sour. "I'm just saying you wouldn't understand what I'm talking about. You don't even pay attention to a girl for more than ten seconds unless she looks like a model from _Playwizard _magazine." Blaise smacked the arm of the chair in frustration before storming out of the room, clearly having trouble accepting and adjusting to the alien experiences of having real feelings for a girl.

Draco just shook his head as he stared after his friend; he could be such a tool but he couldn't help but love him amicably all the same. The blond then stared up at the ceiling, absently rubbed his aching muscles in his neck and shoulders; the aftermath of the Polyjuice task and having to walk in Hermione's slouched stance was taking its toll on him.

He repeated his friend's words over and over in his head. Little did Blaise know, that Draco actually had paid a great deal of attention to a girl lately without even giving her looks (or lack thereof) any thought whatsoever.

* * *

Draco wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep, but the next thing he knew it was morning and he was jolted awake by the sound of Blaise entering the room and shutting the door. Draco's eyes snapped open, and slowly his senses began adjusting to his surroundings. He noticed his heavy breathing, the rapid beating of his heart and the feeling of his t-shirt sticking to his skin with sweat.

He sat up and looked in Blaise's direction without really seeing him, the images of his dream still playing on loop in his mind's eye.

"You alright?" Blaise sounded genuinely concerned. "You look like hell."

Draco couldn't even find the words to argue with him. He _felt_ like hell, so he could only imagine Blaise's comment was just honest.

"Never better," Draco lied. "These damn rooms are always too hot. It serves me right for falling asleep with too many clothes on, really." He grimaced as he peeled off his drenched t-shirt and tossed it onto the dresser.

"As much as I concur that we're slowly being baked to death in here, I find it hard to believe that you're okay," Blaise walked over and leaned against the wall. "Quit the bullshit act for a moment would you, and listen."

Draco winced as he turned his head to look Blaise in the eye; that twinge in his neck seemed to be worse than before. Then again, all of his thrashing about probably didn't help. He waited for Blaise to go on.

"You don't have to pretend that you're not having nightmares about what happened last year, or being forced to be branded with the Dark Mark, or one of us turning into a potato, chocolate brownie or cupcake from the heat in here and the other one eating them –"

"I'm sorry, are we talking about _your_ nightmares, now?" Draco asked. He smiled to himself, knowing Blaise just said that to cheer him up.

"Maybe," Blaise laughed. "Look, do you want to tell me about it? Maybe you'd stop having them if you talked about them."

Draco shook his head 'no'.

Blaise rolled his dark eyes. "Don't try and fool me Draco. I'm not blind to the way you wake up hugging your pillow every now and again. More to the point, those are the mornings when you haven't had a nightmare. Face it, you need comforting, and I, unlike you, swear to not call you a soppy Hufflepuff during any conversation about it. Hell, Pansy and Daphne agree with me that you've seemed extra distant lately."

Draco stared at the floor. He knew Blaise was right and talking about it could help, but he found himself wanting to be having this conversation with someone else other than his best friend.

_No, _Draco told himself firmly. _You've already told her way too much personal stuff. _For once, Draco accepted that the annoying voice of his brain was right this time. With every detail he told Hermione he felt like he sunk a little further into a pit in the ground, where the surface above him signified his independence and the old, aloof version of himself. He just knew that if he told her about this too, then he'd never be able to climb out.

Blaise sighed as it became apparent that Draco wasn't going to divulge anything.

"How about we go to Hogsmeade today?" He offered. "I know I was joking before, but I've suddenly got a craving for chocolate brownies. I'll buy you something."

Draco arched a brow, "_You_ are going to buy _me_ something?"

"Yeah," Blaise shrugged.

"_You_?" Draco's other eyebrow lifted. "The man who still scrounges off his parents even though he has an untouched vault of hundreds of thousands of galleons of his own money?"

"What can I say, I'm feeling generous." Blaise smirked. "And you're my friend who needs cheering up."

"You want something." Draco said.

"What?" Blaise's eyes widened. He clutched his heart in dramatic surprise. "Malfoy I'm offended that you could ever imply that-"

"Tell me what you want," Draco sighed.

"I don't want anythi-"

"Yes, you do."

"No, I-"

"Zabini-"

"Fine," Blaise caved. "I need your help with Daphne."

Draco grinned. "Bloody hell it took you long enough," he laughed. "Pansy, Theo and I all had a little bet going on how long it'd take you to grow a pair and admit you like her and actually do something about it. Theo vastly overestimated you; reckoned this moment would have come three years ago. In fact he still owes me seven galleons... I should owl him about that."

Blaise scowled. "You have no right to judge me about this. Trust me, after so many years of casual snogs it gets pretty scary when you get genuine feelings. It's bloody horrible."

* * *

"You alright, Hermione?" Harry asked in the common room as he watched her rolling her head from side to side and rubbing the base of her neck – her muscles were certainly paying the price after having to carry herself in such a tense and rigid way the day before.

"Yeah," she said. "Just slept funny."

She looked up when a door opened and Draco strode out of his dormitory. She smiled, beyond relieved that he'd finally agreed to stop pushing her away; it seemed some good did come from being him for an hour, after all.

Draco didn't smile back at her. Instead he nodded his head in acknowledgement. Hermione rolled her eyes; she supposed that was as good as it was going to get.

Harry sighed behind her.

"What?" she asked, turning to face him.

"I really wish you were more careful, yesterday," Harry said, eyeing Draco out of the corner of his eye. "Running after Malfoy like that-"

"Was stupid," Hermione finished for him. "But however bizarre this may sound, Draco and I are actually friends now. Or at least, we've agreed to be civil to each other."

Harry grunted. "You promised me you'd be more careful when you're around Ron."

"And I have been, Harry," Hermione said wearily. "That was just me not thinking clearly. Can you blame me for not being completely with it after everything that happened with Ron at the lake yesterday?"

"I suppose not," Harry sighed. "But you didn't have to be so hard on him about it."

"What?" Hermione almost choked on her toast.

"Yesterday, when I was in the shower…?" Harry tried to jog Hermione's memory. He was blissfully unaware that at the time in question, her face was being attacked by Daphne Greengrass. "You told Ron that –"

Hermione never did hear the end of that sentence, as Ron himself, walked over to them.

"Morning," Hermione smiled at him.

Ron just mumbled incoherently and yawned; he really wasn't a morning person. "Mornin'" he replied and stretched. "What are ya talki-" another yawn. "-in about?"

"I was just saying to Harry that it couldn't hurt for him to get to know his partner a bit better," she said with a glance in Harry's direction. It wasn't exactly a lie, for she'd been thinking about telling him to be more civil with Daphne in the hopes that it could take the heat off her and Draco a little.

"Oh right," Ron said vacantly. "We got a task today or something?" Hermione's brows knitted; she couldn't help but sense some kind of tension between herself and Ron.

"Not that we know of," Harry shook his head. "What do you two fancy doing today?"

Hermione and Ron looked up at the same time. Their eyes met in the process, and almost immediately they looked away from each other again. "I'm not really fussed," Ron said. "Quidditch? Ernie and that lot were going on about it yesterday."

"Can do," Harry nodded. "You okay with that Mione? We can do something else afterwards if you want."

"No, no, it's okay," Hermione did her best to smile. All of a sudden she felt very wary about Ron's awkward fidgeting whenever he looked at her. "It's a nice day today; I was planning on taking a book outside with me anyway, so that sounds good."

Harry smiled at her and seemed to release a breath of relief. Hermione could only presume that he'd been worried she'd sooner make up an excuse to spend time with Draco instead. She supressed an eye-roll; both of her friends were becoming way too paranoid about the whole thing. Although she couldn't help but be curious about what was said between Draco and Ron the previous day.

* * *

"A romantic gesture?" Blaise scoffed. "_That's_ your brilliant advice worth five Galleons of Honeydukes sweets and Butterbeer?"

Draco arched an eyebrow as he licked the frosting off a cake. "I never claimed to be an expert at this stuff, Blaise. You asked for my help; I simply neglected to mention that I wouldn't be any use to you."

Blaise shoved Draco with his elbow, causing him to stumble off the path. "You're such an arse," Blaise moaned. He kicked a pebble with his foot as the two of them headed back to the castle. "I only asked you because you know Daphne better than me, so you'd give me some idea of how to impress her."

"Don't blame me because you were thick enough to offer me free stuff in return," Draco took another lick and held the cake out to him, as if in a peace offering. "Cupcake?"

Blaise wrinkled up his nose. "As if I would when it's got your germs all over it."

"Merlin, I just can't win with you can I?" Draco teased. Blaise pouted sulkily and he picked up his pace so Draco was forced to jog after him. "Sweet Salazar you don't have to be so sensitive about it." He sighed, "To be honest, my advice is pretty useful if you want to get Daphne by impressing her."

"Oh yeah?" Blaise asked.

"You know how much of a traditionalist she is," Draco explained. "She'd expect you to be the one to get your act together and make the first move."

"How do you know she even likes me?" Blaise said. "I'm not putting my arse on the line if I'm going to get rejected. Hell, she was snogging your face off –"

"_Because_ you were snogging off Brown's!" Draco sighed in exasperation. "Do I have to bloody spell it out for you? She was trying to make you jealous, and evidently it worked," he smirked.

"I'm not jealous," Blaise sniffed. "It just so happens that the moment she kissed you was the moment I realised how I feel about her."

"Yeah, yeah," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh by the way," Blaise said when they'd almost reached the castle. "It's my cousin's wedding in a couple of days."

Draco frowned. "And I should care about that because?"

"It's really early in the morning so I'm going to have to stay over at his house tomorrow night, so…"

"Oh," Draco said absently as it dawned on him that he was going to be alone in the dormitory tomorrow night. "All right."

"Sorry, mate," Blaise clapped him on the back. He took in the way Draco's face, though unreadable, had paled considerably at the news. The blond just nodded detachedly, not letting anything on to his friend but secretly dreading tomorrow night.

"Would it make you feel any better if I gave you the last pack of Bertie Botts beans?" Blaise asked a little reluctantly.

A smirk tugged slightly at Draco's lips. "Maybe." He took the packet from Blaise and scooped a couple of jellybeans out with his fingers:

Envelope glue and soap.

Draco gagged and spat the sweets out, not even bothering to act tough by swallowing them. He definitely didn't feel any better after that.

He and Blaise continued to walk, but Draco automatically stopped in his tracks when he saw Hermione sitting on the front steps just outside the main entrance.

"… So then cupcake-Crabbe and cupcake-Goyle just started running away from me, and I was chasing th… " Blaise's voice trailed off. "What are you looking at?"

"You should really talk to a psychiatrist about those bloody confectionary dreams of yours," Draco absently drawled, still consciously unaware that he was still looking in Hermione's direction.

Blaise chuckled to himself.

"What?" Draco turned to him and arched a brow.

"Seriously, what's happened between you and Granger?"

"Nothing," Draco said a little too quickly. "She wouldn't leave me the hell alone, so I'm not wasting any more energy trying to avoid her. She's like a bloody bad smell you can't get rid of."

"And yet, _you're_ the one staring at _her_," Blaise replied, looking very smug.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What exactly are you implying?"

"Nothing," Blaise said in mock-innocence.

"Because in case it hasn't sunk into your skull yet, this is a bloody competition. I have to work with Granger to get what I want, and if that means pretending to be nice to her for, then I'm going to bloody well do it."

"Still," Blaise said. "If it were me, I'd sooner snog a Hippogriff than be holed up in a tiny dorm with a Mudblood for a whole year."

Draco felt his muscles stiffen somewhat at the name, but he was an expert at hiding his emotions, and so Blaise was none the wiser about how it angered him for some reason. Draco told himself that he was naturally affected by it because his last school year had been a wake up call, and such prejudices reminded him all too much of his father. It had nothing to do with the fact that the name was directed at Hermione. Draco didn't care about her; he was just grateful for everything she'd done for him recently. At the same time he almost resented her for it, for making him feel like _her_ inferior.

"Yeah, well maybe being holed up in a dorm with someone like her will make people start bloody realising that I'm not some clone of my father."

Draco smirked triumphantly; _that _definitely wiped the grin off Blaise's face.

"You know, it _would_ help if you'd get your proud head out of your arse and actually talk to us about that kind of stuff. That way I would have known not to say anything."

"Zabini-,"

But Blaise had already walked past Hermione and into the castle. Draco rolled his eyes, watching after him for a moment and briefly wondering if it was possible that Blaise was having his own male equivalent 'time of the month'. It would certainly explain his tetchiness.

Draco's eyes then fell on Hermione again. He sighed, feeling inclined to go over and ask how she was. He didn't much care about the answer but since another task could be inflicted on them at any time he'd rather she wasn't broody and unresponsive.

"What's up, Granger?" he asked nonchalantly as he stood in front of her. She was obviously lost in her own thoughts, for her eyes were glazed over and she hadn't noticed him.

"Granger?" Draco flicked her temple lightly and shoved his hands in his pockets. The sudden contact brought her back into the present immediately.

"Ow!" she frowned, rubbing her head. "There are other ways of getting someone's attention you know? Or are you just planning on greeting me like that every time you see me?"

"Now don't be putting ideas in a Slytherin's head, Granger," Draco smirked. "What's up?"

Hermione just mumbled.

"I'm afraid I'm not accustomed to that language. Translate it to English, if you would be so kind?" He sat down beside her on the step.

She gave Draco a sideways glare but remained silent.

Draco sighed. "You know this isn't fair, right? I feel obligated to demand you tell me what's got your lacy white knickers in a twist on the grounds that you gave me no choice in the matter either when this was reversed."

Hermione's sudden horrified look led Draco to believe that he'd accurately, though inadvertently, described her underwear.

"It was just a figure of speech Granger. You can relax; I meant what I said about not looking yesterday."

Hermione just blushed. "Speaking of yesterday, did Ron seem… _off _with you?" she asked.

"Speaking of the Weasel," Draco looked around. "Where is he?"

"Great Hall with Harry," Hermione said. "So, did he seem in a bad mood at all? Or just distant?"

Draco arched a brow. "You think he knew it wasn't really you when we did the Polyjuice thing?"

She shook her head. Her eyes glazed over again as she looked blankly out at the lake. "No, but its just that Harry said something about him being upset about something 'I' said to him yesterday." She turned to face Draco with an accusatory glint in her eyes.

Draco felt his stomach knot up for a moment. "What exactly did 'you' say?"

"You tell me, Draco!" Hermione's voice rose as a burst of exasperation overcame her.

"You expect me to remember a conversation I had with Weasley?" Draco scoffed. "I may have been a little sharp with him – which was to be expected really – but there's nothing that springs to mind that would make him go off in a mood."

"But-"

"Oh yes, I do remember something," Draco said. "My attitude shouldn't have been an issue because I cunningly came up with an excuse for that."

"Which was?"

"Cramps."

"_Cramps?!_"

"Cramps," Draco confirmed.

Hermione looked like she was torn between being completely offended or amused. The resultant expression was quite strange, indeed.

"Honestly, Draco," she shook her head and let a small laugh escape. "It baffles me how that was the first thing you came up with out of the array of possible excuses that are out there."

"Such as?"

"'I didn't sleep well last night', 'I'm stressed about the competition', 'I'm stressed about my exams', 'my best friend won't bloody look me in the eye anymore.'"

"Wait – what?" Draco asked.

Hermione's shoulders slumped. "It's probably me just being paranoid because nothing seemed weird about him until I spoke to Harry this morning. But then I noticed that Ron's been quite tentative around me like I'm going to spontaneously combust at any second or something. You really didn't say anything to him?"

Draco could see the worry in her eyes. He didn't like her being so fragile; she was supposed to be fiery and bossy and happy, so he decided to calm her nerves by responding, "Not that I can think of."

Hermione didn't seem completely convinced but she didn't protest. She just sat in silence for a while before rolling her eyes again. "_Cramps_," she scoffed.

"Hey, you should be happy I managed to come up with any kind of excuse at all," Draco drawled, smirking slightly.

Hermione laughed, and as Draco remembered their conversation from yesterday, he realised the sound of her laugh was relatively pleasant, too. "Did you end up telling Daphne about the Polyjuice task, then?"

"I was going to," Draco said as he popped another jellybean in his mouth. "But she seemed to have come to the conclusion that 'I' slapped her away because I knew that Blaise liked her and I was trying to be a good friend or something. In fact, she let 'me' off the hook for it without me even having to say anything at all. As I recall the conversation somehow ended up with me agreeing to follow through next time she decides to snog me to make Blaise jealous."

"Isn't that what she was trying to do yesterday?" Hermione asked. She noticed the way her insides knotted up again at the idea of Draco and Daphne kissing.

"Yes, but 'I' didn't know it was coming," Draco said. He tilted the box towards Hermione. "Jellybean?"

She wrinkled up her lightly freckled nose. "No thanks. I prefer sweets that have a hundred per cent guarantee of tasting nice."

"Where's the fun in that?" Draco joked. "I had envelope glue and soap flavoured ones put together just a few minutes ago and I'm still eating them. If anything the threat of the disgusting ones only makes the nice ones even better." He jiggled the box under her nose.

Hermione still looked at it dubiously.

Draco sighed. "For a Gryffindor you've got no bloody balls, have you?"

"Maybe that's because I'm a girl," Hermione said dryly.

"You're so innocent," Draco said.

"There's nothing wrong with that," she said haughtily.

"It's sad," Draco smirked. "Look, if I eat one, will you?"

"If you get an awful flavour, I might," Hermione said, smirking slightly.

"Fine," Draco shuffled the beans around in the box and picked up a sinister looking red one that he was almost certain was chilli flavoured. He scrunched his eyes closed before eating it, expecting the worst. It actually turned out to be strawberry, but Draco found himself putting up the pretence of it tasting disgusting.

He didn't quite know why he was lying about this; perhaps it was just the desire to see Hermione get an overcooked cabbage one. Draco didn't fancy exploring the alternative scenario, which implied that he was acting like it was a bad flavour to cheer Hermione up somewhat.

He seemed to pull off the act well enough to convince her. She tentatively stretched out her fingers and plucked up the first jellybean she came across. Without even stopping to look at the colour of it she put it in her mouth and started to chew. Draco watched as her brow furrowed in confusion for a few seconds until she identified the flavour. Her expression then turned into a grimace, and she scrambled to her feet, running to the side of the stone staircase and spitting the bean out over the edge.

"Did you have to be so dramatic about it?" Draco drawled as she sat down again.

"Spinach," Hermione answered.

Draco laughed and arched a brow. "That's it? Spinach? Merlin, you had me thinking it was troll bogey or something."

"I hate spinach," Hermione muttered.

"I kind of gathered," Draco said.

"Shut up," Hermione turned and smacked Draco's shoulder. "What?" she asked when she saw he was looking at her closely.

"You've got essence of spinach jellybean on your lip," he said. "Were you brought up with zero etiquette?"

"Oh," Hermione flushed in embarrassment and hastily wiped her mouth with her hand. She still managed to glare at him for his obnoxious comment. "Gone?"

"No."

"Now?" she wiped her mouth again.

"No. You're kind of just pushing it around your face."

"Draco, are you lying to me?" Hermione asked after a third unsuccessful attempt.

"Sweet Salazar I hope not," Draco smirked. "My life must really be going downhill if I have to get my kicks from lying about something like this."

"Well, tell me where it is," Hermione said.

"Kind of here," Draco tapped the corner of his mouth.

Hermione missed by about a centimetre this time. Draco sighed. "Merlin you really are useless, aren't you?"

Before either of them knew what was happening, Draco reached out for Hermione's face with his right hand. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting a violent poke in the face from Draco as he pointed out exactly where the specks of green crystals were. Instead, she felt his index finger rest under her chin, and the smooth pad of his thumb gliding across the corner of her mouth.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She was surprised to see Draco's silver ones looking right into them as opposed to focusing on her mouth. He'd evidently gotten rid of the remaining bits of spinach jellybean, and yet he was still absently stroking her face. Hermione's throat dried up, and her heart started thumping madly. She ought to say something – anything – to get his hands off her, but her brain couldn't find any words.

"Got it," Draco said quietly. He felt just as confused and scared as Hermione looked, but he continued to look at her and allowed his thumb to trace invisible lines against her face for some unknown reason.

Time became lost to them for a while as they looked into each other's eyes, searching for some kind of explanation. This was on a completely new level for them; it was like they were the only two people in the world. This was intimate, not rushed and marginally awkward like some of their previous experiences."Thank you," Hermione whispered. Her breath hitched when Draco's thumb brushed against her lower lip. It must've tickled for her tongue flicked out and licked that same spot when Draco's thumb moved away.

"You're welcome," he said. His thumb slid upwards to Hermione's cheek and her eyes followed his own as they fell downwards and focused on her mouth.

She daren't take a breath in case it'd shatter this unguarded moment, and even when Draco's head dipped, she didn't move a muscle. Both sets of eyes fluttered closed as Draco softly brushed his lips against hers. It wasn't necessarily a kiss, but just a couple of seconds of contact before he drew back again. His eyes never left hers as his hand slid down her face and finally away from her altogether.

Hermione's lips tingled in the absence of the contact, and when she finally caught her breath she spoke. "Let me guess: you don't know why you did that?"

"No idea," Draco said. "And you don't know why you let me."

Hermione half smiled; something that Draco took to mean that his guess was right. "I just take not knowing as a given when it comes to us now."

He smirked, "I bet that annoys you: the not knowing."

"Completely," they both laughed, and then sat in a thoughtful silence for a few seconds.

"I should probably go," Draco said eventually. "I only came over here to make sure you were all right – purely for my own benefit for the competition, of course."

"Of course," Hermione said. "And you did cheer me up, Draco. Thank you."

Draco nodded curtly and rose to his feet. Hermione kept her eyes forwards, and only released a breath she'd been holding for Merlin knows how long when his footsteps had faded away. She buried her face in her hands, wondering how many more times something like that was going to happen before the dynamic between them shifted indefinitely… if it hadn't already.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **I know there wasn't much Dramione in here but like I said - this was technically the half way point before I split it so next chapter will have _plenty_ of Dramione - I promise ;)

Next update will be in about 4 days - a week (since I've already got the next chapter written :P) In the meantime if you want your Dramione fix from me, go read 'Divided' :) (had major issues with the site glitching so it didn't show up on my profile yesterday, but hopefully it's working now. If not then keep checking back every few hours).

See you soon! :D


	14. The Broom

**A/N: **Well I ended up expanding the chapter I already had. It's now 10,000 words (oops) but I can't be bothered to split it again. You can't say I don't treat you all :p I don't ask for much in return: just a teeny little review... it's just nice to know that you're enjoying it and keeps me motivated to keep going! Thank you for all of my lovely readers and reviewers; you're fabulous :)

This chapter continues when the last one left off, and it's a rollercoaster, I warn you now. There's angst, there's fluff, there's drama... fasten your seatbelts!

* * *

**14**

**:. The Broom .:**

"No. Bloody. Way."

Draco turned to see Blaise leaning against the wall around the corner from the main entrance.

"What?" he asked.

"You and Granger. Like _you _and _Granger_?" Blaise's eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. His expression was otherwise unreadable.

"Do you have the memory of a bloody goldfish or something?" Draco snapped.

"I know what you said, but what I just saw may be going a stretch too far just to butter her up so she'd co-operate in a task we don't even know we have yet."

"It's none of your bloody business, Blaise. You shouldn't have been spying in the first place."

"Oh no," Blaise jogged up to Draco and pulled on his arm so he couldn't walk away. "You can't play that card again, Draco. The last time you did that I ended up being the bad guy again for saying 'Mudblood'."

"You wouldn't understand," Draco said.

"Give it a rest. I've been venting to you about my woman issues all day!" Blaise said.

"I just don't trust you when you're constantly around the biggest gossip in school. To be frank, you've never been all that good with the secret thing either."

"But-."

"It's bloody complicated, Zabini," Draco snapped. "I don't even know what the hell's going on myself. In fact I'm still torn between ripping my eyes out from the shame of it all and hexing my own arse for still having prejudicial thoughts. If I don't even understand it there's no way you will."

Draco shook himself free and started walking towards the common room, with Blaise hot on his heels. He already knew what his friend was going to say next.

"Try me."

Draco caught the smirk on Blaise's face in his peripheral vision. "Granger's been the person I've been talking to about everything, all right? About last year and stuff," he said, knowing he at least owed Blaise that much information.

"What?" Blaise's smirk turned into a frown. "You told _her _before you told us, when we're the ones who've been through the hell of last year _with_ you. We'd understand where you were coming from! As far as I can see, all Granger would do is bloody patronise you!"

"That's precisely the reason why I haven't been telling you anything! You've already done that crap and have overcome it by now. I'm still not quite past it yet, and I didn't want to drag you all back down with me," Draco was filled with a sudden rage, and he sneered at Blaise. "I can be nice, you know?"

"Well usually you've never had any trouble moaning about your problems to us in the past," Blaise replied steadily. "Can you really blame us for being worried?"

"I'm not like that, Blaise," Draco said. "Not anymore."

"You're still an arse for not telling us –"

"So I've been told on many occasions," Draco smirked. "I'm just more… compassionate than I was before, that's all. With that aside, I'm still the same loveable person I always was."

"The 'lovable' description is questionable," Blaise said dryly. "But seriously, you and Granger?" he shuddered. "I'll admit that despite still feeling naturally uneasy about it, I'm not freaking out because she's a Muggleborn. Last year made me see that some of the prejudices were stupid, but it sucks that you went to _her_ - practically a stranger - over us when we've been your mates forever."

"I agree," Draco said. Neither of them were being bigoted just for the sake of it, but it was just hard to let go of all of those values when you'd been taught to uphold them all your life. "And for what it's worth, she's the one who kept badgering me about this stuff. I didn't go crying to her if that's what you're thinking."

"Probably just so she could have a good laugh with Weasley and Potter."

"No," Draco said bluntly. "She wouldn't do that; she _hasn't_ done that."

"So, what was that all about outside?" Blaise asked. "I know it's been a while since your last snog but you went back to Granger after that Spin the Quill game after everyone here? She's not exactly page three of _Playwitch_ material, if you know what I mean."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I _always_ know what you mean, Zabini, but it's not like I have any control over the matter. If I had it my way then Granger and I would be no more than partners for this competition and that would be it."

"Oh you're telling me someone's _Imperiused_ you?" Blaise laughed somewhat cruelly. "Give it a rest. You're just flipping your shit because you're –"

"Don't bloody say it," Draco said in a dangerously low voice. "You don't know what's been going on so you have no right to make assumptions."

"But-"

"But nothing," Draco said. "You can be as angry as you want about me not telling you much, but Granger has actually been really helpful. Perhaps too helpful."

"Oh and me and Daphne and Pansy wouldn't have been?"

"Blaise-"

"No, Draco. You're right; I don't understand. Don't worry, I won't spill your little secret so long as you don't spill mine about Daphne."

"Those are hardly the same things!" Draco shouted after him, but his words fell on deaf ears.

* * *

The next day, Draco did everything in his power to throw Blaise off the scent that there was something bigger going on between him and Hermione. Draco may not know what it was that was going on, but he did know that Blaise was blowing it way out of proportion. He spent all day with him, Daphne and Pansy, and pointedly ignored Hermione whenever she looked his way or tried to speak to him. Strangely enough, she seemed to be pretending he didn't exist either, and never so much as looked up from a conversation with Potter or Weasley if he walked past.

Draco wasn't quite sure if this was a blessing or a curse, really. It seemed to do him a favour though, because as the day went on, Blaise's mood seemed to get better. Daphne pouncing on Draco again and him actually responding to her had been the final thing for Blaise's suspicions to disappear, despite everything he'd seen. The kiss with Daphne was nice, but nothing special or memorable. Blaise seemed completely livid about it afterwards but he didn't say anything. Draco smirked at him and winked as he threw an arm around Daphne.

Blaise only mouthed back, 'I'm not jealous,' but proved quite the contrary when he started kissing Lavender.

He kept stealing glances at Daphne every so often. She always blushed, but kept up an indifferent mask, which just seemed to anger Blaise more. When it came to girls, he wasn't accustomed to not getting what he wanted. Draco could only watch these subtle exchanges between them and roll his eyes.

Later on, when Lavender disappeared into the bathroom with Padma, and Pansy and Daphne were busy comparing their _Witch Weekly_ horoscopes in the living area, Blaise approached Draco. "All that stuff you were saying about not understanding what was happening with Granger," he said quietly. "You sure your brain's just not jumbling up all of your emotions? You said so yourself that she helped you with whatever you've been telling her."

"Where are you going with this?" Draco asked.

"I'm just saying, it's easy to mistake gratitude for something else. I know you'd never touch Granger if it weren't for all that."

"Took you long enough to realise that," Draco sighed. He started to wonder if Blaise was right, and his brain was jumbling up the feelings of gratitude for something more. It would explain why Draco never understood what was going through his head whenever something happened with Hermione. "But you're making this seem much bigger than it actually is. I mean, me have feelings or Granger and moreover, her having feelings for me when she's still going on about Weasley? As if that would ever happen."

"Well what in Salazar's name did you expect me to think when I saw you and Granger yesterday?"

It was coming up to two a.m. now, and Draco still didn't know how he'd respond to that question. At the time he'd just shrugged and nothing more was said about it. What he'd done on the stairs was careless. Not only was it a stupid thing to do full stop, it was stupid to do when someone other than Blaise could have seen it happen. What if It had been Pansy, or Weasley, or – actually Draco was quite intrigued to know what would have happened if Ron had seen them. He could only be thankful that Blaise wasn't quite as bad as the girls when it came to blood purity.

Draco stifled a yawn, and he continued to stare blankly up at the ceiling as he lay in bed. He was forcing himself to fight against the draws of sleep for as long as possible, fearing the worst of what kind of thing his brain would conjure up tonight. He'd never really noticed how much of an impact Blaise had by being in the same room as him until now. Without him here the room felt larger, and yet, more suffocating than ever. For some reason Draco felt like the isolation was just going to make his frequent nightmares all the more horrible.

He'd drifted off once around midnight, but had woken only ten minutes later with his father's voice ringing in his head.

"_Torture the Mudblood, Draco. Now."_

"_I… I can't," Draco's voice cracked as he stared into the wild and pleading eyes of a restrained Hermione Granger. _

"_What a pathetic excuse for a Death Eater and a Malfoy you are," Lucius sneered coldly._

"_I didn't want this life!" Draco screamed. _

"_Very well. Then both of you shall pay," Lucius lifted his wand and yelled "CRUCIO!"_

That's when Draco woke up. Ever since then he'd been absently analysing that snippet of his dream in order to keep his brain active. He'd be lying if he said that was the first time Hermione had appeared in one of his dreams, but this was however, the first time Draco saw himself refusing to harm her.

The sound of a door opening and light footsteps brought Draco out of his thoughts. He decided to get out of bed and enjoy a few minutes of respite from his inner demons by annoying the crap out of whoever was outside in the common room. He smirked to himself, already feeling better just at the thought of it.

He practically jumped up out of bed but stopped himself before he could pull the door open when he heard the faint sound of water trickling from a tap. Draco immediately guessed that it was Hermione getting her glass of water. He took out his wand and made his dormitory door transparent so he could see into the common room.

It was dark, but he could just about make out the silhouette of Hermione's bushy bed-hair in the kitchenette. Draco rolled his eyes. "Just take a bloody glass to bed with you," he muttered under his breath.

He deliberated whether to stay in his dorm or go out there. Apart from Ernie, Hermione was the most fun person to annoy, so it was tempting, but something was holding Draco back. He'd definitely got the impression that she was purposefully ignoring him today, and he didn't want to take the chance of going out there and becoming more stressed than he already was if she started squeaking at him like she did when she was angry.

Draco reasoned that she was just probably doing it to match his attitude towards her, which was a typically Granger thing to do, but he still remained torn. He drummed his fingertips against the invisible wood of the door impatiently, wondering what was stopping him.

He changed the door back so it was opaque and pivoted slightly to toss his wand onto his bed. His eyes briefly scanned Blaise's empty one in the process, and a small wave of dread and fear overcame him. He knew his dreams would be worse because he wasn't here; Draco didn't want to be alone.

His head lolled so his forehead rested against the door as realisation hit him. He knew if he went out there, Hermione wouldn't be retiring to her own dorm again without him saying something stupid like asking her to stay in here with him. Draco was desperate, but no way near _that _desperate. Or was he? He didn't know anymore.

He shuddered, and seriously contemplated hexing himself just for thinking of asking Hermione such a thing. He'd be a complete joke; there was no way he was risking the small degree of integrity and pride he had left for the sake of one night, especially when Hermione was giving him the cold shoulder.

Draco retreated back to his bed, feeling determined to stop being so open with Granger, because he no longer had any reason to be. The inexplicable physical gestures between them aside, they weren't anything more than friends, and even that word seemed too strong.

* * *

"Queen to D6."

Ernie punched the air in triumph when his Queen knocked out Ron's Bishop.

"Bloody hell," Ron moaned. "I dunno what's going on with me today."

"I told you I'd beat you one day, Ron," Ernie said.

"You haven't won yet," Ron replied, scanning the chessboard intently.

Hermione placed her hand on the back of Ron's chair and leaned over his shoulder so she could get a good look. Ron seemed to tense slightly as he sensed her presence, but didn't say anything.

Hermione lowered her head so she could offer her advice to Ron without Ernie hearing but he shuffled away from her. She sighed and gritted her teeth before drawing her back up straight, feeling slightly hurt. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Draco exit his dorm, but she refused to look at him, which unbeknownst to her, had little effect since he was not looking at her either.

Just as Ron was about to make his next move, Terry came barrelling into the room.

"Woah, slow down," Mandy said, sidestepping her fellow Ravenclaw and laughing. "What's the rush? Celestina Warbeck releasing a new song?"

"Oh Merlin, could you say that any louder, Mandy?" Terry asked. "I don't like her anymore."

"Then why did I find a picture of her stashed in your trunk that one time?"

"She… I …" Terry was blushing furiously as everyone simultaneously turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Oh shut up! I like her music, okay? No shame!"

Ron laughed. "Oi Terry, you should live at my house: mum's bloody obsessed with her."

"She's got good taste," Terry smiled.

"Boot!"

"What?" Terry asked Mandy.

"You going to get your head out of your fan-boy cloud and tell us why you look like someone's put a bucket load of ants in your pants?"

"Right," Terry shook his head to refocus. "Next task."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"No!" Pansy whined. "My nail polish hasn't dried yet!"

"Just dry your fingers with your wand when we're heading down," Terry shrugged.

"Oh Terry," Pansy shook her head patronisingly. "How naïve you are. It's on my bloody toes you nitwit!"

"Well go bloody shuffle off to your room and dry them, then."

"Excuse me," Pansy squeaked. "You can't rush art."

"Is that why you like knitting?" Terry smirked.

"Ooooohhh," Ernie chorused to add dramatic effect.

Pansy stood and pointed a taloned nail at Terry. "If I could walk properly, so help me Boot I'd tackle you to the ground and paint _your _nails."

"You know," Terry said. "I'm not sure why, but that thought scares me more than you hexing me."

"Good," Pansy broke her threatening eye contact and, with the assistance of Daphne, stood from the sofa. She turned so that she could be collectively addressing everyone in the room. "If any of you laugh, I will get you later."

Nobody knew what exactly Pansy would 'get' them with, but they daren't ask. Pansy then turned her back, lifted her toes so they were in the air, and processed to waddle hurriedly into her dorm by walking on just her heels.

"Am I the only one that thought she looked like a penguin?" Ernie whispered very loudly when the door slammed behind Pansy.

There was a quiet murmur of agreement.

"Actually I think she looks more like a," Hermione stopped and whipped her head around to look at Draco when he started saying the same thing she was.

"Duck," he finished.

"Duck," Hermione finished quietly. Draco had obviously heard that she'd said it too but he didn't look at her, which was just as well since pretty much everyone in the room was now staring quizzically at them. She wondered if his comment was a reference to the day of their Polyjuice task when Hermione likened his girl walk to one of a duck.

"We'd best get going," Terry said, faking a cough to cover up his laugh.

"Where are you two going?" Ron asked when Hermione and Harry started following everyone else. He looked away shyly and awkwardly when he caught Hermione's eye. It wasn't surprising really; given what had just happened, but Hermione felt her heart sink a little anyway.

"Great Hall with everyone else," Harry said. "Or are you so determined to beat Ernie that you're going to sabotage a game of chess when he's gone?"

"No I," Ron paused. "Actually that's not a bad idea, but anyway, I've gotta wait around for Penguin Parkinson in there haven't I?"

"Not necessarily," Hermione said. "Blaise turned up late for that quiz task remember?"

"S'pose," Ron said, rising from his chair and stretching. "What d'ya reckon Dumbledore's got in store for us this time?"

"Merlin knows," Hermione said, wondering why these tasks always had to happen at the most awkward times for her and Draco.

* * *

"Just in time, Blaise," Draco smirked when his friend walked into the Entrance Hall, overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Next task," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh, crap," Blaise pouted. "Old Dumbly really needs to pick more convenient times."

"Tell me about it," Draco drawled, arching a brow. "Wait; why are _you_ so bothered?"

"Just fancied a shower. I don't recommend wearing heavy dress robes in the blazing heat for two hours."

"Yeah, I can smell you from here," Draco drawled, smirking slightly.

"Git," Blaise muttered. "I s'pose I'd better drop this off in the dorm," he jiggled the bag and lowered his voice as he drew nearer to Draco. "Well you're still alive so I guess you managed to survive without me there last night," he smirked.

"Don't flatter yourself," Draco said. "I only slept about two hours."

"No shit," Blaise chuckled. "You look like hell."

"Charming," Draco said dryly.

Blaise clapped him on the back. "Well I'm glad you're alright." And with that he turned his back and walked away back towards the common room.

Draco continued on into the Great Hall with everyone else and waited without enthusiasm for Dumbledore to deliver instructions.

"Now, I hope that by now you've all gotten to know your partners quite well. Or at least, gotten used to working with them," Dumbledore chuckled after the usual introductions and greetings.

There were several nods of agreement amongst the group, coupled with one or two small but adamant headshakes. Hermione and Draco just kept their expressions blank. Their partnership was so up and down that Hermione had come to the conclusion that they would never be used to working with one another. Going into each task so far, it had been completely unpredictable as to how it would turn out, and this was no exception.

"Well I'm sure by the end of the month there'll be nods all around," Dumbledore smiled.

"Doubtful," Ron snorted under his breath as Pansy walked in with Blaise. She was wearing a pair of open-toe sandals and still waddling somewhat.

"Waddles like a penguin, looks like a pug," Harry whispered in a dry tone. His comment definitely served its purpose of cheering Ron up. In fact it worked so well that Ron's face turned beetroot red as he tried to contain his laughter. Pansy, who had clearly heard Harry's comment, was staring hard at Ron, as if daring him to let the laugh escape.

"Now, moving along-" Dumbledore began, only to be cut off by Snape, whose beady eyes were honing in on Ron.

"Sorry to interrupt, Headmaster," he drawled. "But I, for one, would like to know what Mr Weasley is finding so … amusing."

"Nothing, sir," Ron said in a strained voice, coughing to hide his snort of laughter.

"Miss Parkinson?" Snape asked, obviously having seen her stares.

"How should I know, sir?" Pansy responded, for some reason covering for Ron instead of grassing him and Harry up.

Ron stared at her in obvious confusion for a while. He was clearly torn, wondering if Pansy did that to genuinely be nice and to not crush their chances in this task before it had even started, or if she did it so she could blackmail him later on.

Dumbledore waited patiently for a few moments before starting again. "Now, this test is very important. The teamwork skill that will be under scrutiny this time is one that will be fundamental to your partnership as Head Boy and Girl, if it is to be a successful one."

"What is it?" Harry asked, sounding like he was dreading the answer.

"Trust," Dumbledore replied simply.

It was funny how one word could tie both Hermione and Draco's stomachs in knots. They gulped hard; knowing the new friction between them was going to be a difficult thing to overcome. Draco had already planned to put all the blame on her if they failed this task, since he had a legitimate reason for keeping his distance whilst she just seemed to be being haughty just for the hell of it.

"How's this gonna work, then?" Anthony asked. "We do that falling backwards thing with our partners then have the rest of the day off?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Unfortunately it is not that simple."

He went on to explain that honesty was also going to play a key role in making the task successful. Hermione initially scoffed, knowing that 'honesty' and Draco didn't mix. She then went on to regret even thinking something like that, wondering why it was so hard for her to realise that he did have a side to him that could be honest and vastly more human than she'd ever seen him before.

Everyone was told that they were to confide in their partner something that they feared. The task was to essentially help each other to face that fear and put trust in each other not to make that fear even worse. The red colour in Ron's cheeks had drained completely now; he really wasn't comfortable with trusting Pansy to help him get over his fear of spiders. He just had a strange feeling she'd pick up the biggest one she could find and shove it down the back of his shirt.

Hermione and Draco made the first eye contact they'd had since they talked on the steps, then. It was a shame: both of them knew they'd essentially already completed this task once before when Hermione helped Draco build up the courage to speak to his mother. That, if anything, would undoubtedly have given them maximum marks, and now they were both very aware that Draco revealing anything more around that topic could make this twice as difficult.

"And just to let you all know," Snape drawled as everyone was dismissed, and Professors were assigned to oversee the progress of a few pairs each. "If we feel you are not being… truthful, then we could also bring out a boggart from the Defence Against the Dark Arts office. So unless you want to be embarrassed in front of everyone, I suggest you are honest and get on with it."

"Surely that just defeats the object of openly being honest with your partner," Hannah whispered, frowning slightly.

"Yeah but it's Snape," Terry whispered back. "He'd never miss an opportunity to embarrass us. He's probably just talking to the Slytherins, anyway. Merlin knows how that lot would be too proud to even lie about fearing anything."

The candidates moved around each other as they tried to locate their partners and get started. Hermione and Draco both looked at each other calculatingly for a while; sizing each other up as if judging if the other would be the first one to swallow their pride and be the one to move first. In the end it was Hermione. Despite her frosty attitude towards Draco lately, he wasn't at all surprised she caved first.

"So," Draco said, pretending the lingering awkwardness didn't exist. "What is the fearless Gryffindor scared of? Overdue library books? Getting an 'Exceeds Expectations' instead of an 'Outstanding'? Mismatched socks?"

Hermione sighed, but Dumbledore's voice cut her off before she could reply.

"Did somebody say 'mismatched socks'?" he enquired. "I daresay one ought to be thrilled that he or she has socks to begin with," Dumbledore then walked away, mumbling about the countless times he'd been denied socks on Christmas Day.

The odd comment was enough to make Hermione and Draco momentarily forget about being angry at each other. They both laughed, but Hermione soon snapped herself out of it and re-focused.

"Don't test my patience, Draco," she said.

"Why?" Draco arched a brow. His expression hardened. "Look, if you think I've gone back on my word and started purposefully avoiding you yesterday then –"

"I don't think that at all," Hermione replied.

"Then what's going on?" he asked. "Have I offended you or something?"

"Yes," she sniffed, crossing her arms.

"Okay," Draco said slowly when she did not elaborate. "You want to tell me what I've done?"

"I'd rather not have this discussion now," Hermione said, using her head to gesture to the chattering students and lingering professors all around them.

Draco's jaw clenched. "Well we're going to need to have it pretty damn soon or I highly doubt this task is going to run very smoothly for us."

"Fine," Hermione snapped. She caught McGonagall lurking nearby and watching them closely. "Just play along," she whispered.

"Er, all right," he said.

Hermione racked her brains. She knew she had to say something that would allow her and Draco to talk (or argue) where nobody else was around. She ended up blurting the first thing that came to mind. She looked at Draco with surprised eyes, her mouth forming a perfect 'o' shape.

"Really, Draco? Hippogriffs?" she said, blinking rapidly. "Well maybe if Hagrid's around then I could help you… oh Professor McGonagall," Hermione waved the Gryffindor head of house over. "You don't know if Hagrid is here, do you?" She couldn't help but smirk somewhat at the way a faint blush appeared on Draco's face when several people in the room snickered. He glared at Hermione; he certainly did not fear those bird freaks. Well, Draco couldn't deny that the things freaked him out but he wasn't scared of them…

"As it so happens, Miss Granger, you are in luck," the corners of McGonagall's eyes creased. Apparently even she found amusement in Draco's alleged fear of Hippogriffs. "I'll escort you and Mr Malfoy down to Hagrid's hut, and he can oversee this half of your task."

Hermione followed her out of the Hall, leaving Draco to jog for a while until he fell into step beside her. "Care to explain?" he hissed.

"You wanted us to talk, didn't you?" Hermione replied in the same tone. "I had to say something so we'd have an excuse to be somewhere we wouldn't be overheard, and the forest was the first place I thought of."

"Yeah but Hippogriffs?" Draco arched a brow. "Really? You couldn't think of something a little more dangerous like… like… dammit just anything that's not feathery!"

"Honestly Draco," Hermione said. "I think I'm doing you a favour by making up a fear for you."

"Not to sound too much like a Hufflepuff but isn't this against the rules? This is all about honesty and stuff."

Hermione half-smiled and reiterated what she'd just been thinking. "I think we've already proved to ourselves that we can be honest with each other. This is just to show the Professors that we can, too."

Draco remained silent; he couldn't really argue with that.

"But… Hippogriffs," he moaned again when he felt Daphne's amused gaze burning into his back as they reached the Entrance Hall.

"Wow," Daphne laughed. "You think you know a guy and then you find out he's scared of a measly Hippogriff."

"Not very surprising if you think about it," Harry said. "It'd explain why he tried acting all superior to Buckbeak back in third year."

"Hmm," Daphne mused. She turned to face Harry and opened her mouth to interrogate him about his fears when she saw Blaise walking towards her, and stopped. Harry decided to jump in with the conversation instead.

"So, er, what are you scared of?" he asked.

Daphne watched absently as Lavender linked her arm with Blaise's. She watched him smile at the other witch and felt her heart clench.

"Rejection," she said in a small voice.

* * *

"Ello 'Ermione," Hagrid pulled Hermione into a bone-crushing hug.

"Hey Hagrid," her voice was strained and tears sprung to her eyes. He released her and she caught her breath again. "It's good to see you."

"Good ter see you, too," Hagrid smiled. "And congratulations on yer Head Girl nomination. Give my best ter Harry an' Ron when you see 'em, and tell 'em 'congrats' too."

"Of course I will," Hermione smiled.

"You know wha'? 'Ow about you three come fer tea tomorra'?"

Hermione didn't even get chance to consider her response before McGonagall started clearing her throat loudly.

"Rubeus, this is not the time to be organising social gatherings with the students," she looked sternly up at him over the top of her spectacles.

"Oops," Hagrid said. "Sorry Professor, force 'o' habit, you know?"

"Hmm. Well I trust you can help Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy with their task?"

"Oh yeah, righ'," Hagrid nodded. He'd started staring at Draco rather cautiously at the mention of his name. Draco just rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to a worm on the floor. He wasn't sure if Hagrid's stares were to do with more than the Hippogriff incident of third year or not, but Draco did know that he and the oaf would never see eye to eye.

"Very well," McGonagall smiled. "I'll leave these two to explain the situation to you."

"I mus' say I'm surprised ter see you two managin' ter work together like this," Hagrid said when McGonagall had gone. "And yer seem to be doin' very well by the sounds of it."

Draco perked up a little at this comment; it seemed the oaf had his uses after all; namely, finding out from other professors how well everyone was doing.

"Well obviously it wasn't ideal for either of us," Hermione said. "But we've been trying to put our differences aside for the sake of this."

"Well good fer you, 'Ermione," Hagrid beamed, leaving Draco feeling rather like a pariah. He may have a reputation for being prejudiced but at least he wasn't a hypocrite like Hagrid was being now by making it seem like Hermione was the only one who was putting effort into the partnership.

"Yes, _we_ are both handling this much better than _we_ anticipated," Draco said loudly, trying hard not to sneer.

"Righ'," Hagrid cleared his throat, obviously feeling uncomfortable by the comment. Hermione elbowed Draco in the ribs and glared at him. Draco just shrugged in return. "So wha' can I 'elp you both with?" Hagrid asked.

"We were just wondering if it would be possible to borrow one of the Hippogriffs for a while," Hermione said. "You see this task is about putting trust into each other so we can work together to face our fears, and-"

Hagrid cast suspicious eyes on Draco. "An' you expect me ter believe tha' Malfoy was scared of Buckbeak? 'E seemed ter be over the moon when 'e got him condemned ter death."

Tears sprung to Hagrid's eyes and although Buckbeak was still very much alive, Hermione nudged Draco again, imploring him to say something, for to his knowledge the Hippogriff had died because of him.

"I didn't think it was as dangerous as you said it was, so yes, you could say I became scared of it after that," Draco tried not to glare at Hermione when he said this. "And I didn't want to be anywhere near it again in a lesson, so I did the one thing I knew would eliminate my fear for good."

Hermione rolled her eyes; Draco's response was about as sensitive and emotive as a rock.

"Hmm," Hagrid clearly didn't believe him. "Look Malfoy, I'll bring out a Hippogriff for you to 'face yer fear', if you gimme one good reason why I should trust you."

Draco looked Hagrid in the eye and boldly said, "Because Hermione trusts me."

He had no idea if that was true – he guessed not – but it was the only thing that would convince the half-giant to play along.

Hagrid looked towards Hermione for confirmation, his bushy eyebrows raised in disbelief. She gave a small nod in return.

"Well, tha' bein' the case, I'm willing ter give you the benefit of the doubt, Malfoy," Hagrid said in his gruff voice.

Draco just nodded his thanks.

"Now they've jus' been fed so they'll be preenin' and cleanin' their feathers at the moment. Why don' you two head ter the clearin' and I'll bring one over in a few minutes."

"Okay Hagrid," Hermione smiled. "See you there."

She waved and headed towards the mouth of the forest, with Draco not far behind. Once they were out of earshot she turned and glared at him.

"Well that was kind of rude," she snapped.

"I know," Draco drawled. "That oaf had some nerve assuming that goody-goody Granger is the only one of us who's actually making an effort."

"I'm talking about you, Draco," Hermione said. "Can you really blame him for making snap-judgements? You haven't exactly given him much reason to think you'd be willing to co-operate with me."

"Which is ironic since you seem to be the one unwilling to co-operate at the moment," Draco said. Twigs snapped under his heavy footfalls. "Now just hurry up and get your arse to that clearing so you can tell me what the hell I've done wrong."

He knocked into Hermione when he sped up and walked past her, marching into an open area of the forest that was shining golden in the sunlight. By this point, she didn't know if Drao's obliviousness was genuine or if he was just acting dumb to annoy her. She sped up slightly and joined him in the clearing.

"So-"

"You had no right speaking to Ron during the Polyjuice task!" Hermione yelled without pre-amble. Trees rustled as she startled the birds. She hastily waved her wand and cast a silencing charm before pocketing it and staring at Draco angrily.

He merely arched a brow; his expression was otherwise blank. "Forgive me but I was under the impression that speaking to him was part of the instructions."

"But you had no right discussing my personal business with him when he was under the impression I was… well, me!" Hermione began pacing in order to get out her agitation.

"You mean about the cramps?" Draco asked, beyond confused by this point.

"I'm not talking about that, Draco!" Hermione looked about ready to pull her hair out.

"Then what-?"

"You told him I was upset about what happened between us at the lake! You made it seem like I was accusing him of trying to manipulate me! Now he's drifting away from me, and it's all your fault! Not only that: you _lied_ to me! I asked you if you had any idea why he was being off with me and as it turned out, you're the reason why!"

The majority of tension in Hermione's muscles eased after shouting for so long. She hadn't actually realised she'd started to cry until her vision turned blurry, but she ignored her tears and stood her ground. Part of her frustration was down to the fact that she actually felt betrayed by Draco, and had done ever since yesterday evening, when Harry told her what 'she' allegedly said to Ron on the day of the task, but she couldn't understand why.

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you serious? Believe it or not, I was trying to do you a bloody favour! That's why I said I didn't know why Weasley was acting strange: because it was the truth!"

"What?" Hermione stopped her pacing to look at him.

"You've told me all about your situation with him," Draco snapped. "You pretty much said that you have no intention of getting back with him."

"So that automatically gives you the right to speak on my behalf?" Hermione demanded.

"Like I said," Draco said through gritted teeth. "I thought I was doing you a favour by making it clear where you stood so he'd stop pathetically fighting this losing battle to get you back. You always have to over-analyse things, don't you?"

"You don't understand!" Hermione's voice rose again and fresh tears spilled out. "What you saw at the lake… that was the closest Ron and I have ever been since this whole bloody break started. Things finally felt back to normal; I thought I had my best friend back. And then you went and ruined everything!"

"Well you looked pretty damn cosy to me," Draco said.

"We've been friends since we were eleven, Draco! We have a close bond. Just because you don't know what that's like to have –"

Draco's fists clenched at his sides, and Hermione realised she'd gone too far.

"I don't know what it's like to have what, Granger?" he growled. "Close friends? Is that what you were going to say? In fact, don't. I already know it was. It's written all over your face."

"Draco…" Hermione bit her lip. "No, I –"

"Just forget this," Draco spat. "I don't care anymore."

"No, I didn't mean it like-"

"Yes, you did."

"No I bloody didn't, Draco!" Hermione shouted. "Please, just let me exp-"

"I think you've said enough," Draco said, turning his back on her and sitting on a nearby boulder, hoping she'd storm off and leave him alone.

But this was Hermione Granger, and she wasn't one to walk away from a fight without having the last word. Unfortunately for her, neither was Draco.

"I didn't mean you don't have close friends," she made sure to phrase things carefully. "I just meant that you wouldn't understand what you saw between me and Ron because… well, Slytherins like to keep themselves to themselves and Gryffindors are more open to hugging their friends and stuff like that," she said. "To be honest I shouldn't be needing to explain these things to you in the first place. Your meddling really crossed a line this time-"

Draco rolled his eyes and swivelled on the boulder to face her. He kicked his heels against the rough surface of it absently. "Were you honestly expecting anything to end well that involved me having to be civil to Weasley? Because I'll tell you something: it could have been a lot worse."

"How could it possibly be worse?"

"Because he bloody held my hand, Granger. I'm still yet to decontaminate myself of his germs completely."

"So? That's hardly as bad as Daphne snogging me."

"Yes but the point is that I stuck it out and reacted by telling Weasley to back off. You, on the other hand, slapped Daphne away and ran. Did it ever occur to your overrated mind how that could have affected my friendship with her? No, of course you didn't." Draco's eyes turned cold and glinted menacingly in the sunlight, and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. "Call me self-centred and narcissistic all you want, but you're no better."

Hermione was stunned into silence. She hastily wiped her tears as she was overcome with a pang of guilt and the fight drained from her. She realised that Draco's words to Ron weren't said to be meddlesome or out of spite at all: he'd actually had good intentions. She sighed.

"You're right, I didn't think," she said. "But I know Daphne wouldn't have turned her back on you over that."

"How?"

"Because when we were in her room, she was saying that she and the others have been worried about you: you've been acting distant; that you've not seemed like yourself but you refuse to talk to them about anything. She asked me why and I…" Hermione took a deep breath. "I didn't answer… I know you told me personal stuff in confidence and I didn't want to betray that trust. Plus, she didn't seem like she hated you yesterday when she pounced on you again."

"That's not the point, Granger. It's the principle," Draco frowned. "And what the hell was that last comment supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Hermione said quickly.

"If it meant nothing you wouldn't have bothered to say it," Draco said, meeting her eyes steadily. "Jealous?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open, and she blushed fiercely. "Of course not. As if I'd be jealous about-"

Draco shrugged, and Hermione scowled at him. If he was going to play these mind games with her, she was going to do it right back to him.

"I could easily say the same thing about you, you know?" she said. "For all I know, you're just jealous of Ron and that's why you said all that stuff to him during the task."

"Why would I be jealous of him, Granger?" Draco challenged.

Hermione took a deep breath to compose herself before responding. "Maybe it has something to do with what's been happening between us lately," she said quietly. "I'm not jealous, but I'm not going to deny I felt a bit strange when I saw you and Daphne kissing when just hours before, we-"

"That didn't mean anything, Hermione," Draco said firmly. "It was nothing."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "That wasn't nothing, Draco. _We_ aren't nothing."

"Then what are we?" Draco yelled in frustration.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "We're something, though. I know that much."

"I know," Draco said begrudgingly. "I bloody wish we weren't, though."

"That makes two of us," Hermione said. "But as long as neither of us know what it is, there's nothing we can do." She was growing weary with all the yelling, and tentatively jumped up to sit beside him.

"Do you think that maybe… I'm just getting stuff mixed up?" he said quietly, looking at the floor instead of at her.

"How do you mean?"

"Blaise reckons I'm confusing gratitude for something else."

"How does _Blaise_ know anything about this?" Hermione asked shrilly.

Draco sighed. "He may have seen us on the stairs yesterday."

"What?!"

"So I already know that the Slytherins were worried about me. He and I had a lovely little argument yesterday because you're the person I've been telling everything to."

Hermione shook her head, deciding to try and make sense of the Blaise complication once she and Draco had overcome this hurdle. "I think you know deep down that this has nothing to do with gratitude. Yes, that time you kissed me outside the common room may have been down to that, but what happened yesterday certainly wasn't. You know as well as I do that that was completely different."

Draco knew she was referring to the intimacy of what happened, but he decided not to say anything, which was just as well as Hagrid's large form was now visible amongst the trees. Hermione quickly removed the silencing charm and jumped off the boulder.

"Hey," Draco whispered after he jumped down too. "Truce?" He wasn't usually opted to brood for a while after an argument rather than attempt to make amends, but when it came to Hermione he didn't see much point in being difficult.

"Yes," Hermione gave a small nod. "Since this is a trust task I feel inclined to believe that you didn't mean any harm in what you said to Ron."

"Yeah, speaking of the Weasel," Draco said. "You really need to talk to him if you want to stay on good terms. As long as you come up with a believable excuse for what I said to him then it should get back to normal."

"I know." Hermione smiled, all of a sudden feeling bad for accusing Draco of being jealous.

"Righ'," Hagrid said, leading a tawny coloured Hippogriff into the clearing. He walked it over so it stood about six meters away from Draco and Hermione. It was decisively smaller than either of them remembered Buckbeak to be, but its beak and talons looked equally as threatening.

"This one's name is Gracie," Hagrid said, smiling fondly at the creature.

"Gracie?" Draco arched a brow. "It's female?"

Hagrid nodded, "Jus' an extra precaution in case the events of third year were down to you vyin' for alpha-male superiority," he chuckled. "So, I'll let you two ge' on with it. I'm s'posed to report back to Professor Dumbledore about how successful this was."

Draco's jaw clenched in annoyance but he bit his tongue.

"Do you remember what to do, Draco?" Hermione said softly, remembering she needed to keep up the pretence that Hippogriffs were Draco's biggest fear.

"Yes," Draco said. His eyes were wide and his chest was rising and falling quickly: he was definitely being believable in acting scared of Gracie.

"What exactly is it that you're afraid of?" Hermione said sincerely. "I won't laugh."

"Doubtful," Draco arched a brow. "But if you must know it's the… the… those things," he flailed his hand towards the taloned front legs of the Hippogriff.

"Well they won't hurt you again if you swallow that insufferable ego of yours and be polite to her. Just walk over slowly and bow to her. This is about trust, so you have to do what I say and have faith that you'll still be alive by the end of it."

"That's not funny," Draco said, all of a sudden feeling his palms grow sweaty as Gracie's orange eyes focused on him. He gulped, hoping that Hippogriffs didn't carry grudges.

Hermione spun him around. "You'll be fine, trust me," she said. Then she lowered her voice, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Hey, you're not seriously scared are you?"

"No," Draco snapped.

Hermione arched a brow.

"Well, maybe a little," he said. "Overgrown bloody chicken."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave his hand a quick squeeze before spinning him around again. "Pep talk over," she said. "Now just man up and get on with it."

"Tough love," Draco commented. "Is that really the best way to help someone face their fear?"

"It is when that someone is used to being babied," Hermione responded. "Now keep eye contact with her at all times."

"That seems a little too intimate for me," Draco said. "We've only just met after all."

"Draco stop stalling and get on with it."

"Merlin you have no sense of humour," he muttered. "But if it means getting this task over with I'll do it. See Granger, I want to get away from you so much that I'm willing to face the terrifying Hippogriff."

"I'll let that comment slide because we have a competition to focus on," Hermione said dryly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes because Draco couldn't resist getting a dig in at her. "Now just walk very slowly."

"Okay," Draco took tentative paces forwards, sweet-talking the Hippogriff under his breath. "Good bird… nice feathers… don't kill me… good bird… chicken… horse… thing."

"Now bow really low," Hermione's voice came.

Draco did as bade; his heart was thumping in his ears. He felt a sense of achievement – of redemption – when Gracie bowed back.

Hermione squealed in delight. "Draco, you did it! She'll let you pat her now if you want."

"No thanks, I'm good," Draco said, running back to Hermione. "Fear faced, now can we leave?"

Hermione lowered her voice. "You could have at least stroked her once so it would seem a little more impressive."

"There's only so much pride I can lose, Granger," Draco smirked. "Stroking the chicken freak was a stretch too far." He then spoke a little louder so Hagrid could hear. "I must say, though, I'm a little shocked that you didn't try and manipulate the thing to rip my arm off again."

"Told you, you could trust me," Hermione replied. She then walked over to Hagrid. "So, I think we're finished here."

Hagrid made no comment about the supposed act of trust and bravery on Draco's part that he'd just seen - possibly because he didn't believe two one-time enemies could work together so efficiently like that.

He congratulated them both (though seemed a little reluctant to say it to Draco) and fed Gracie a ferret – something that made Draco visibly cringe – for being a good girl before leading her away.

"Those things could smell my fear, I can tell," Draco muttered. "They sensed that I was a ferret once."

"Oh Draco stop whining. We did it, and your arm is still intact."

He grunted. "So come on then, what fear will I have the honour of helping you overcome?"

Hermione visibly paled. "You promise you won't be an arse and make it worse for me? This is an _actual_ fear of mine unlike one that's only partly true."

"Why would I mess with you and make us fail the task?" Draco asked. "If I feel the need I'll just save the jokes until we aren't being judged."

Hermione took a deep breath and looked at the floor. "Flying."

"What was that?"

"Flying," she said a little louder.

"What kind of witch are you?" Draco shook his head in disappointment. "That won't do, Granger. You're seriously missing out."

"On what?" Hermione snapped as panic began to build in her. "Quidditch?"

"Since you're afraid of flying, I'm going to save my speech about why there's something wrong with you because you don't like Quidditch," Draco drawled. "But flying just gives you this sense of freedom that nothing else compares to."

Hermione shrugged. "I find freedom in books."

"That's hardly the same thing," Draco scoffed. "What is it that scares you?"

"I'm just not… very good at it," Hermione shrugged. "And I never feel safe on a broom, like I'm going to fall off."

Draco tried not to laugh at her, mainly because he could see how truly scared she looked. He reached out and squeezed her hand like she had done to his earlier. Her worried eyes met his. "You'll be safe with me," he said. "I promise."

If Hermione had heard those words from Draco, and known she was about to fly on a broom with him a month ago, she'd have run a mile. Instead, she felt oddly reassured.

* * *

A few minutes later, Mandy ran over with an old but sturdy school broom for Hermione and Draco, who were waiting on the Quidditch pitch. McGonagall was overseeing them this time. She was sitting in the stands with her clipboard and quill poised, which made Hermione even more nervous.

"Draco," she said unsteadily. "I don't think I can do this."

"Of course you can, Granger. You admitting you can't do something is like me admitting I'm not ridiculously handsome: impossible," he smirked, but even his teasing tone wasn't enough to cheer Hermione up. She looked like she was about to throw up.

It was quite bizarre for Draco to see this. He'd always imagined seeing Granger so scared about something would be amusing, but instead he felt his stomach knot up uncomfortably at the sight of tears threatening to spill over Hermione's brown eyes.

"Look," he sighed. "It probably doesn't help that you're most likely still angry with me for what I said to Weasley, but since we'll both be on one broom and I'll obviously be in the driver's seat, you have the opportunity to dig your nails into my stomach and cause me as much pain as you please under the pretence of being scared shitless. If I were you, I'd say a measly minute up in the air would be worth that."

One corner of Hermione's mouth tilted upwards slightly. "Well," she sniffed. "I suppose that thought makes me feel a little better."

"Good," Draco laughed. "Because believe me: this is your one and only chance to freely punish me for whatever thing that brain of yours couldn't help but over-react about."

"I think you've done more than enough to punish yourself to make up for that, don't you?" Hermione said. "And I do not over-react!"

Draco snorted. "You keep telling yourself that, Granger." His expression softened then. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Hermione said stoically. "Which roughly translates to mean: no."

"Hermione," she felt Draco's index finger lift her chin. "I know I just said it before to get the oa- _Hagrid_ to play along, but… do you trust me?"

Hermione's eyes never left his. Her answer was unexpected for both of them, but decisive. "Yes."

Draco expelled a breath of relief but didn't say anything else. He took the broom Mandy had brought them and turned his back on Hermione as he mounted it. She just stood rooted to the spot.

"I'm waiting Granger," Draco drawled tiredly after a minute had passed.

He heard a sigh behind him, and then felt the bone-crushing grip of Hermione's arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek against his back and clenched her eyes shut hard.

"Granger, I know I said you could hold on tightly but suffocating me won't do either of us any favours," Draco said.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled, loosening her grip slightly. "I can't believe I'm doing this with you of all people."

"That makes two of us," Draco replied over his shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.

He felt Hermione's cheek move on his back, signalling a nod. It was a strange feeling to have her holding him like this. Draco hadn't been feeling the slightest bit nervous before she joined him on the broom but now she was here, he felt more relaxed. In a way he felt like he needed this: her needing him for a change.

He could only hope this meant she felt more comfortable too, but he didn't bother to ask since prolonging the inevitable wouldn't help with her nerves.

Hermione instinctively held on tighter when she felt the broom move and her feet leave the ground. She squealed in fright and clenched her thighs to the rickety wood with all of her strength. Under normal circumstances she'd certainly feel embarrassed about making such a noise in front of Draco, but today she didn't care. As they rose higher into the air she just buried her face into his shirt, inhaling his intoxicating scent and finding it oddly calming.

Draco usually enjoyed flying quickly but he made sure to slow down to make sure Hermione felt comfortable. He suddenly felt this sense of responsibility now, and he didn't want to let her down. He let the broom hover when they matched the height of the second-tallest Quidditch hoop.

"Hermione."

His voice made his back vibrate against Hermione's cheek, which started to tickle as a result. She daren't remove one of her hands to tend to it though, so she conceded she'd have to deal with it.

"Yeah?" Her voice was so small.

"Are your eyes still closed?"

"Yeah," she said again.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well open them, then. I think it'd be a lot less scary for you if you could actually see where we are and which way is up."

"Do you have to be so bossy?" she huffed.

"I learnt from the best," he smirked.

"Funny," Hermione said sarcastically.

"I know I am."

His smug response made Hermione's eyes fly open so she could either roll them or glare at the back of his blond head, but instead they just focused on the floor, which seemed miles below them.

She yipped again.

"I'm just going to fly once around the pitch and then if you've had enough we can go down," Draco said.

"Okay," Hermione replied. She tensed again when the broom moved, and was beyond grateful that Draco wasn't trying to be funny by going at top speed. In fact they were borderline crawling, but it was still pushing Hermione's limit.

She tried to distract herself, and forced her eyes to look at the sky instead of the floor. Surprisingly, it did help. As Draco flew them around the edge of the pitch she realised how much the height allowed her to really appreciate the small things in life. She took notice of the brilliant blue sky, the fluffy white clouds and the feeling of warm air caressing the skin of her face. She felt weightless, and as Draco had described: free. It was wonderful.

"Have you died Granger, or are you actually starting to enjoy this?" Draco asked when the death-grip of her arms relaxed and receded to a light embrace.

"Don't say 'I told you so', but I kind of am enjoying this," Hermione laughed.

"Granger?"

"Yes?

"I told you so."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Git."

Draco laughed. "Well that's the circuit done."

"Already?"

He turned to her and arched a brow. "You want to keep going?"

"Yes" Hermione replied. "But just because I'm getting used to flying doesn't mean that I'll be signing up for the Quidditch team any time soon."

"We'll see," Draco said. He felt comfortable enough to pick up the pace a little now, and began to fly in random patterns and directions as opposed to just in a straight line. "You okay?" he asked after a while.

"Yes," Hermione said. "Thank you," she added. "For making me feel safe."

Draco wasn't facing her so she didn't see the smile that naturally formed on his face. "You're welcome."

"Out of curiosity," Hermione said as they continued to fly. "What would you have told me if I hadn't made up the Hippogriff fear for you?"

Just as Draco opened his mouth to respond he felt the broom jerk under his hands. He just pinned it on a lapse in concentration, and regained his thoughts. Just as he did this, the broom jerked again. This time it was harder.

"Draco," Hermione's voice was uncertain. "What's going on?"

"Dunno," he said. "Must just be the broom. It is a school one, after all. The quality is bound to be dodgy."

Hermione's grip tightened slightly. Then the broom jerked again. And again.

"Draco, stop. Please," a tone of fear was creeping into her voice again, and Draco hated that. He glared at the broom, gripped it tighter in his hands. This did little to regain control, and the broom kept thrashing, gradually becoming more violent.

"Hermione, this isn't me. I swear. I wouldn't -" the broom lurched and began jerking up and down of it's own accord as if trying to toss them off balance.

"AAH!" Hermione screamed. The death grip returned. Draco had no idea what was going on, so he decided to start a descent. He cautiously dipped the nose of the broom downwards, but almost simultaneously, the back end bucked ferociously.

Hermione could sense the presence of magic; could tell this wasn't Draco's doing. Looking down with wild eyes, she spotted a figure on the ground, hidden amongst the tress with their wand pointed up at them. She gasped upon recognising them, but as the back end of the broom flew upwards, she lost her grip around the safety and comfort of Draco's body, and then there was just air. And gravity. And that awful sense of falling that she'd get in her dreams sometimes.

Only this wasn't a dream. This was real.

"DRACO!"

His blood turned to ice when he felt her nails drag against his sides before he felt none of her at all. He swivelled his head just in time to see her terrified brown eyes looking up at him. Her arm was outstretched, and she was screaming his name as she fell further and further away…

"NO! HERMIONE!"

The person on the ground lowered their wand, and the broom stopped jerking but Draco hardly noticed. His Seeker instincts took over and he dived, accelerating as much as possible. For all he knew he could be thrown off at any second too, but all that was in his mind was reaching Hermione, the ground that was getting nearer and nearer, and the promise he'd failed to keep.

_To be continued..._


End file.
